


8 of Hearts

by habenaria_radiata



Category: Persona 5, Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor
Genre: A Smorgasbord of Dick Jokes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers to Accomplices, Graphic Depictions of Mara, Humor, King of Bel!Kazuya, M/M, Masturbation, Romance, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-03-29 00:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13915611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/habenaria_radiata/pseuds/habenaria_radiata
Summary: One didn't agree to moonlight as a Phantom Thief if one wasn't comfortable taking risks. Even so, it was another thing entirely to be so far out of your depth, there was no longer a shore to see.Then again, when it came to being romanced by a weird demon king, was anyone really in their depth? Akira had his doubts.Direct sequel to7 of SpadesSpoilers for both Devil Survivor and Persona 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got some extremely kind comments on 7 of Spades that inspired me to write this sequel. Thank you guys so much! I'm really happy that it was so well received!
> 
> I hope you enjoy 8 of Hearts. ♥

* * *

   
  
    The only thing that spared Akira from drilling a hole through the screen of his phone -- in the exact same size and shape of his thumb -- was that he was mostly 'deleting' the messages he composed in his head without actually bothering to commit them to text. At this point in the week, he'd discarded so many potential texts he could have had an entire conversation with himself.  
  
    Damn it. It was just a text. Why was this so damned difficult? It had been four days since his unbelievably bizarre encounter with a boy who literally vanished right before his eyes, and he still hadn't managed to summon the balls to contact him even once.  
  
    Disgraceful. No wonder Iwai didn't want to talk to him. Maybe if he ate another Big Bang Burger, he'd feel brave enough to just pick a goddamned opener and send it.  
  
    Grumpy, Akira slid a hand into his pocket and passed his thumb over the sleek face of the card. He'd been carrying it around for nearly a week, but it still hadn't so much as creased. It was perfectly crisp, sturdy plastic, not even soft around the edges, and he'd committed the boyish message scrawled across the back to memory.  
  
_call me!_  
_xoxo Abel_  
  
    Easy for him to say. Maybe that was the problem. Akira didn't typically have to reach out to anyone else first. Everyone else just texted him. All the time. At hours both reasonable and otherwise, _Ryuji_. Perhaps he'd gotten a little too comfortable in the passive role. God, how did they do it all the time? This was positively nerve-wracking.  
  
    After the first day he spent pussyfooting around trying to come up with something at least relatively cool to open with, Akira had considered merely sending, 'Hi,' but he'd stared at it for five entire minutes before he erased it and returned, grudgingly, to square one. 'Hi' was so...mundane. He'd watched Abel shuffle a deck of cards in the middle of the air, then materialize a card directly inside Akira's back pocket. _Hi_ was not suitably appreciative of the fanfare which had led to it. _Hi_ was what you said to someone you ran into in the halls if you knew them well enough they'd be awkward to ignore, but not enough you were actually excited to see them.  
  
     _Hi_ was as basic as the shitty TV in his room.  
  
    But nothing else was quite what he wanted either. He couldn't say 'Hey, this is Akira', because he hadn't actually told Abel his name before the disappearing act of his impromptu magic show. He couldn't bring himself to even entertain the idea of reaching for tired, irrelevant pop culture bits just in case Abel was embarrassed by him or something, and all the more normal person greetings seemed too boring for someone who went out in public dressed like a vampire that was really into cats.  
  
    He could open with, 'Hi, Abel. I'm Akira', which sounded like he was paving the way to a formal friendship interview. _What about the position caught your eye, and what makes you qualified to be friends with me? Are you available during evenings? If you're flexible, I might be able to pencil you in between heists, three part-time jobs, school, and occasional standing around to watch an old politician be heckled. I guess he's my mentor or something? Anyway, when can you start?_  
  
    And none of that even touched on his anxiety over the fact that Abel might somehow know who he was. But that was entirely off the table. He was partly afraid that being forthright and just asking about the Joker card would put Abel on the defensive, but the rest of him was convinced that Abel didn't know, and acting like a freaked out weirdo about it would be the kind of confirmation he was hoping to avoid.  
  
    His rejection of boring, referential, inquisitive, and polite didn't leave him with much else to choose from. So Akira settled on snarky, which Abel seemed to have in spades.  
  
    Spades. Ha. Because that was his card. That wasn't funny, he couldn't work that into a joke. He knew because he'd tried.  
  
    'My cat is also a Magician' was the first idea he had that seemed to have promise. It amused Akira probably more than he'd feel comfortable admitting out loud, and Abel was so visibly a cat person that he thought he would appreciate both the joke and knowing Akira had a cat. But when his insides had blared with panic the instant he thought he'd sent that by accident, he knew it was destined to deletion like all the other ones. He jabbed his thumb down over the back button and held it there for several seconds while he shoved his face into his pillow and contemplated where 'suffocation' would fall on the scale of most-to-least painful deaths.  
  
    What the hell was his problem? He certainly hadn't given half a smidge of fucks about impressing anyone up to this point. Of course, that was likely for the best; thus far, literally no one had been impressed with him upon their first meeting. Ryuji had thought he was a brain-dead moron who couldn't remember who his own teachers were, and Ann had smiled at him in that polite, guarded way that someone might regard a mouthbreathing creep they were hoping wouldn't breach their personal space any further than they already had. Then there was Sojiro, who couldn't have made his opinion of him more obvious if he'd handed Akira a custom crossword puzzle where every word meant 'punk, 'ass', 'loser', or some combination of all three.  
  
    Maybe that was why he was trying so hard to charm this strange boy he didn't know. Abel _didn't_ know him, but he was also the first person in this entire city whose goodwill he didn't have to bust his ass to earn. Abel just...liked him. For whatever reason. And it felt really good.  
  
    And so his dilemma remained until Friday afternoon, when it had been nearly a week from their initial run-in. Abel likely wouldn't remember who the fuck he even was by the time Akira finally found the courage to text him. He could already picture his ninety-four year old husk hunched over a hover-gurney, asking his nurse to send a text on his behalf while she pretended that cell phones hadn't been obsolete since before she was born.  
  
    What the fuck. Akira shook his head and shoved his fingers beneath his glasses to rub at the sides of his nose. Even his daydreams were getting weird now.  
  
    Stubbornly, he reached into his pocket to yank the card out and stare at it some more. He took his cell phone out as well and opened his messenger, then slowly punched in the numbers written across the card as if he hadn't already memorized them.  
  
_call me!_  
  
    It was such a cheeky thing to say. Akira was kind of into it. It was demanding, but in a playful way, and the way he drew _xoxo_ in a crooked line that cocked up at the right was sort of charming. He finished inputting the last nine, and then found himself in the awkward position of staring at a blank text box, comforting in its familiarity despite his angst.  
  
    He must have done this about eight thousand times by now. Ugh. He was starting to get irritated by the sight of his own searingly red background. It made him a little glad that Abel's eyes didn't have backlights.  
  
    His own eyes flickered back to the Joker card, and he curled his finger around it and nudged it closer. Abel's handwriting was surprisingly cute. Of course, it may have been due to the fact that it was written in thick marker that made it look like that, but the words were a lot curvier than he'd expected. He'd also written his own name a lot bigger than everything else, and in romaji, which amused him for reasons he couldn't entirely identify. He felt like he could have guessed that would be the case even before he saw it for himself.  
  
    Slowly, uncertain already, Akira typed _I know you asked me to call you, but is a text okay?_  
  
    Then he narrowed his eyes and backbuttoned, tapping a monotonous rhythm and pushing the heel of his palm into his eye. It wound up shoving his glasses haphazardly up over his head, but he ignored it in favor of squinting at his screen. That sounded so simpering and unattractive, and also almost passive-aggressive. If he was going to send it as a text anyway, why ask at all?  
  
    Why couldn't he just send something? God damn, it was a text message, not open heart surgery. He lifted his thumb as the comma was erased, then paused and frowned to himself. _I know you asked me to call you_. His dark eyes darted over to the card and Abel's unabashed dare.  
  
    Abel obviously wanted Akira to contact him. He'd spent a week trying to craft some solid gold greeting that would knock his socks off when Abel probably just wanted to hear from him at all.  
  
    God. How embarrassing.  
  
    He erased the rest of the message and took a breath. Then he tried again.  
  
_You sure know how to make an exit._  
  
    He hit the send button just before his nerves deserted him. There. He did it. He better get a goddamned surge of guts for all this heartache. Or maybe he should have just sucked it up and stopped being an infant over a cute boy.  
  
    But at least it was done. He took a shorter breath and stood up from his seat, though not before sliding his bag into his lap so Mona could hop into it. He slung the strap over his shoulder and stepped out the door when his phone vibrated in his pocket.  
  
    He would be mortified if anyone had been able to see how hard his heart lurched in his chest. Akira yanked it out immediately and swiped his thumb across the screen.  
  
  _he lives!_  
  
    If he didn't already feel guilty for taking so much time to contact him, Akira certainly would then. A little bubble of ellipses indicated Abel was still typing, though, so he fell still until the next message popped up, Abel's icon angled away and smirking back at him. It charmed him that he was wearing his cape and those ridiculous headphones in his cell picture.  
  
_making an exit is like one of the first things they teach you in magic school. i know how to make an entrance too if you're interested. oh but you're probably still in school arent you? better not. i'd hate to make all your classmates feel inadequate._  
  
    Akira snorted out loud. He couldn't find it in himself to be remotely surprised that Abel was every bit as chatty via text as he was in person. He stepped off to the side and leaned one shoulder against the wall to spare Morgana's face. If Abel wasn't going to make him wait half an hour between responses to seem cool and detached, then he didn't see the need to do so either. He already made him wait five days.  
  
_I don't think you'd hate that at all_ , Akira responded. About as he'd expected, Abel was quick to reply yet again.  
  
_you're right, i wouldnt. damn you know me pretty well already huh? be honest with me. did we go on a few dates when i wasnt looking?_  
  
    Despite having already had Abel put his hand into his back pocket and also tell him he was handsome to his face, he still wasn't prepared for such brazen forwardness. Talk about guts. Abel had as much fear as he did shame. What must that be like?  
  
_I don't think so. I assume I'd have more souvenirs if we did, but right now I'm still 52 cards short of a deck._  
  
    Okay, he felt like he could be proud of that one. He was surprised how quickly that one came to him without him having to deliberate like an asshole for another week. Evidently, Abel liked it too.  
  
_ha!_  
_then if youre not busy, allow me the opportunity to fill out the rest of your deck. cant do much with a lone Joker, can you? well. I could. maybe you could too_  
  
    On one hand, Akira found himself quite flattered. The other hand found him chilled to the bone, cold sweat springing up from his skin. Did he know? Was he just being funny? Why would the Joker mean anything to him if he didn't? Or was he just hitting on him? Because the idea of him being able to 'do a lot' with a lone Joker struck him as ludicrously sexual.  
  
    ...Maybe he was out of his depth, but Akira was nothing if not a risk taker. Plus it was nice to talk to someone who thought he was worth admiring and didn't constantly make jabs about his average face and his visible lack of athletic ability and his deeply unsexy birth control glasses.  
  
    Hastily, he checked his phone for other messages from anyone who might be in dire need of his company, but to his relief, none were forthcoming. And no one ever fucking hung out with him at night anyway, when he didn't have anything going on and could use the company for once.  
  
_Yeah. I'm free._  
  
    Abel's icon popped up again. Akira liked his sharp little headphones.  
  
_perfect. want to meet me at the same spot as last time?_  
  
    It took him a brief moment to remember where exactly he'd encountered him.  
  
_Babel Records, right? I'll be there ASAP._

    He waited long enough to see Abel's quick _you got it_ before he put his phone back into his pocket and made his way out of Shujin with a slight spring in his step. If Abel did know who he was, he didn't seem intent to use it against him. At least not yet. He just seemed like a weird, dorky showoff whom Akira was far too invested in impressing. He was fine with that.  
  
    One short subway ride had him at the underground mall. Exactly like last time, Abel was lounging against the white wall outside Babel Records, his neck bent and his thumb bouncing across the keys of his phone. Akira stopped beside him and waited for Abel to notice he was there.  
  
    He wasn't in a school uniform today, either. The same cape spilled down from around his throat, pooling across the floor. Akira couldn't help but notice that his pants were hot pink, and it occurred to him it was the same color from his phone icon.  
  
    Abel blinked for the first time he noticed since he'd started watching him, tilted his jaw, and eyed him. "Well, lookie there. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" He didn't sound annoyed, which Akira realized he'd half braced himself for. Abel was smiling very genuinely as he pushed away from the wall and snapped his phone shut. "It's nice to see you again. I missed your face."  
  
    Akira opened his mouth to the roaring sound of silence. Abel was watching him, his body still and his face patient. He had no idea what came over him, save an irresistible urge to tell the truth. "Would you be completely unimpressed with me if I told you I spent all week trying to figure out what to say to you?"  
  
    Again, Abel blinked, his bright red eyes briefly disappearing. Then he laughed, warm and oddly sweet. It was a nice laugh. "Nah, I'm flattered. I liked what you came up with."  
  
    He pushed his glasses higher up onto his nose and chanced a small smile. "I think you're just saying that."  
  
    He followed the motion of one of Abel's pale hands snaking up to his chest and spreading wide across his sternum, his mouth drawing into an offended curl. " _Excusez-moi_? Are you suggesting my compliments are insincere?"  
  
    "I wouldn't dream of it." Akira paused and offered up a bigger smile. "Your French accent's really good."  
  
    That did the trick. Abel was as susceptible to flattery as he was quick to rile. He melted into a bashful smirk and swatted him in the face. "Aww, shucks. Thanks. C'mon, let's get out of here. You can show me around. I'm...new to the area. Sort of."  
  
    Sort of new? Well, he could see that. He was still 'sort of' new himself. "Sure. How new are we talking? You might have one up on me," he admitted, letting Abel tug him along up the stairs so they could make their way towards Central Street. He assumed. Abel hadn't actually clarified.  
  
    "You're a new fish too?" he asked, peering back at him and fixing his hellishly bright red eyes on Akira's face. He was so distracted staring back at him he nearly missed a step, but he somehow managed not to trip and go tumbling down the stairs. Talk about a lasting impression.  
  
    "Yes," he answered, determined to pretend like none of that had happened. If he noticed, Abel was kind enough to pretend that he hadn't. "I've been here for about two months. You?"  
  
    "Ah. Less. You're still stuck with tour duty, I'm afraid," Abel crooned to him, his tone thoroughly suggestive of the fact that he wasn't really sorry about it at all. "I've been here for a little over a week, I think? Haven't been paying real close attention."  
  
    Only a week? Akira must have met him shortly after arriving. Interesting. He nodded slowly. "Where are you from originally?"  
  
    Abel considered it. A little longer than Akira felt like he should, given the nature of the question, but he knew better than to call him on it. Finally, Abel opened his mouth. "I'm from Tokyo. Er, not this specific one. Nevermind, forget I said that."  
  
    "...What?" Not this specific Tokyo? He wasn't necessarily a huge geography buff by any means, but he was pretty certain there weren't that many Tokyos one might hail from. "Er, alright. We'll get back to that. Are you a Shujin student?" He might be new enough he hasn't registered for school yet. Abel did seem like he'd be remarkably less bothered by people gossiping about him to his face than Akira. Not that he was bothered.  
  
    "Shujin?" Abel stopped walking immediately, turning to him with an eyebrow set in a vicious cock. "Your school is called Shujin? ...Really?"  
  
    "I didn't name it."  
  
    Abel snorted at him and smiled. "You don't say! Seriously, though, what the fuck?"  
  
    Smoothly, Akira lifted his shoulders. "That's kinda what I said, too." Well, that was a 'no' on the Shujin student. Akira hesitated for all of a moment, then slowly pulled him back into the crowd to step up out of the station and into the sunlight. "Are you a student at all?"  
  
    "Haha, good call." Abel tossed his blue hair and let go of him, stretching his arms over head and dropping them behind him. Akira watched him lace his fingers together and cradle the back of his own skull. "I'm not a student, no."  
  
    Though he had fully anticipated that response, it somehow still surprised him. Abel looked young enough that he _should_ be a student. If Akira had to guess, he would have said that Abel must be exactly his age. Maybe a little bit older. Abel's face drew into an expression of increasing amusement as Akira stared at him until he canted his head to one side.  
  
    "What's wrong?"  
  
    Akira shook his head back at him and passed a hand over his curls. "Just wouldn't have guessed," he answered honestly. "Can I ask how old you are?"  
  
    "Man, you're not making this easy for me. What month is it?" he questioned. Akira blinked in a way that gave him the impression he looked like a vacuous moron.  
  
    "Uh. Almost June."  
  
    Abel did some counting on his fingers and then frowned, mild and completely disconcerting. He wasn't sure if he should feel bad for asking him any of this or if it was smart to know up front that Abel was not like his other confidants. "I'm nineteen, still. I think. This isn't quite going how I hoped it would."  
  
    It felt rude to voice aloud, but privately, Akira could admit to being relieved that Abel wasn't all confident bluster all the time. It was comforting to know he wasn't the only one who cared what Abel thought about him. With that in mind, Akira adjusted his glasses and turned to face him. "It doesn't bother me," he said simply. "It's fine."  
  
    "Yeah?"  
  
    Abel didn't say much beyond that, but his lips twitched into a smile. It was softer than most of them had been up to that point, catty little curls of his mouth. "Thanks. In that case, can we start over?" He lifted both hands in front of him and spun his index fingers back and forth around each other, as if he thought he might be able to rewind time. Akira wasn't sure he'd even be surprised, at this point, if he really could. "Okay. Starting over." He thrust a pale hand into Akira's chest until he took it into his own and shook. "Hi. Nice to meet you. I'm Abel."  
  
    A slow smile spread across his mouth as Akira's palm lingered against Abel's. "Kurusu Akira. The pleasure is mine."  
  
    Before his hand fell away, a familiar rattle of chains sounded through his skull. Akira froze, his fingertips still touching his skin.  
  
_I am thou, thou art I... Thou hast acquired a new vow._  
  
    So he _was_ a confidant. He wasn't sure why he thought it would be immediate to begin with, so perhaps it shouldn't be that much of a surprise.  
  
    What was a surprise, however, was the particular arcana Abel brought with him.  
  
    'Babalon'? What the fuck was that? He'd never heard of such an arcana before. Though that wasn't to say he was any sort of tarot expert. Hm.  
  
    He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again to see Abel staring at him with a strange look on his face. "You okay?"  
  
    "Yeah. I'm fine."  
  
    Abel's lips peeled back from his teeth in a broad, Cheshire-like smile. "Yeah, you look it," he told him. Akira had the distinct impression that he did not, in fact, look it.  
  
    He liked that smile. He enjoyed the predatory curve of his mouth, like a crescent moon on Halloween.  
  
    "Yo, Akira!"  
  
    As one, he and Abel craned their necks to see Ryuji waving. Akira waved back to him, but as he did so, Abel vanished with a loud crack. He jerked his head back towards the empty space beside him.  
  
    "Hey, who was that you were talkin' to?"  
  
    Akira had no idea what to say. His first instinct was to just say 'Abel', but he snapped his lips shut just before it left his tongue. "No one," he said. If Abel disappeared, it was likely for a reason.  
  
    "Huh?" Ryuji looked flummoxed as he scratched his blunt nails across the back of his head. "Huh...I thought for sure you were. Well, whatever. You wanna go get some food?'  
  
    "Sure."  
  
    Akira fell into step beside him and reached for his phone, already too tempted to ask Abel what the hell that was about to resist the urge. But as he did, he felt the slide of a second card, and he drew it out, consumed with curiosity.  
  
    It was a Queen of Hearts, and this time, he could read the back of it in Abel's voice perfectly.  
  
_don't make me wait a week next time, yeah?_  
_xoxo Abel_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **chapter 1 bonus** :
> 
>   
>    
> 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 

    As it happened, Akira did not feel especially inclined to make Abel wait another week to hear from him again. In fact, he didn't even wait a full twenty-four hours. The instant he got home from his surprise outing with Ryuji, Akira dropped down to the edge of his bed and managed to compose a text without experiencing even a brief spasm of heart palpitations. Imagine.  
  
    Abel had vanished pretty abruptly. If he was going to be hanging out with him more often, then he felt it only courteous to clarify the thus-unspoken rules of their burgeoning relationship. He honestly wasn't sure if Abel wanted his entire existence to be a secret, or if he just took one look at Ryuji and decided he wasn't into it. Understandable, really. It was difficult to form a neutral opinion of someone like Ryuji.  
  
_That's the second time you've pulled a disappearing act. Do I offend, or did you see someone you don't like?_  
  
    He barely had to wait for a response. It made his heart jump to feel his phone vibrate in his palm again, but he did like that Abel was so unbothered by offering quick replies. It made Akira feel less unattractively...eager. Like Abel might want to talk to him as much as Akira wanted to talk to Abel.  
  
_hardly!_  
_you'd never offend me akira. i mean unless you showed up to a date in chevron or something_  
      
    Duly noted. Akira laughed under his breath and pitched backwards onto the bed. Abel was still typing something, so he waited patiently until a third message popped up.  
  
_actually i just wasnt sure how well your aggressively blond mate would play it cool so i just peaced out. next time i'll give you a goodbye kiss and everything, promise_  
  
    What a smart ass. He couldn't even begin to imagine being that shameless. It amused him, but it also wasn't really much in the way of an answer.  
  
_I get you. What should I do next time? Pretend I don't see him?_  
  
    Akira had no intention of actually doing such a thing, but he did find himself interested in what Abel might say. His behavior had been odd in every way. He felt it only fair that he was perplexed by it. Surely Abel would understand?  
  
_aww!_  
_i'm flattered you'd blow off other people on my account, but its ok. its not that i want to be a tantalizing mystery or anything, i'm just not sure how long i'm going to stick around. seems silly to be fielding a bunch of questions from bowlegged strangers if i'm gonna take a hike soon_  
  
    Wait, what? Akira opened his eyes wider and frowned hard at the screen. What did that mean? He had said that he'd only been there a week, but Abel hadn't said anything to suggest that it'd be _only_ a week.  
  
    If it was, Akira didn't have the right to be unhappy about it. He barely knew Abel, and he himself was only going to be in Tokyo until his probation ended. But...he still sort of was anyway. Maybe he could obfuscate with a joke. He hoped Abel could read deadpan in text form.  
  
_I think I'm upset you'd just hit it and quit it like that._  
  
    That didn't sound too sincere, did it? Akira re-read it, his nerves needling along the tips of his fingers until Abel's response soothed them.  
  
_LMAO_  
_you really do like me. gosh. ok but on the real real i didnt mean to make it sound like i was just going to fuck off into the abyss or anything. i'm just feeling things out_  
_tbh your universe kind of sucks. it has like one good thing going for it and its that it has you in it_  
  
    All three texts came so rapidly that Akira barely had time to process the overload of information. His very first thought, he was ashamed to admit, was that it made his heart seize painfully to have someone say something that unambiguously nice about him. He was more used to being thought of as a shitty, nosy brat with an immature justice boner and poor impulse control. But Abel thought he was the only worthwhile thing in the entire universe?  
  
    Even if Abel was exaggerating, as he so clearly was, Akira was flattered enough that it took a few seconds for him to realize that Abel had mentioned _his_ universe. As if there were more. But when it finally connected in his brain, Akira understood that that was exactly what he'd meant, and that it was most likely what Abel was referring to when he said 'stick around'.  
  
    Holy fuck. This bespoke cape wearing 'magician' was a universe hopper. There were other universes, and Abel was contemplating leaving his.  
  
    ...Assuming he was being serious.  
  
    Akira had no idea how much of Abel to take at his word or not. It didn't seem like he was just trying to be funny, but Akira, admittedly, didn't really know him well enough to make the claim that he could read Abel's sincerity through a phone. Or face to face, come to think of it. He was impossible to get a read on, at least only after having technically seen him in person twice, for a handful of minutes at most.  
  
    He realized he'd been staring at his phone for too long when his eyes started to feel dry. He blinked hard and pushed his fingers up beneath the lens of his glasses, pressing them against his eyelids. This was fine. As unsure as he was, Abel had left him a pretty generous opening. That would work.  
  
_In that case, how do you feel about questions from non-bowlegged strangers?_  
  
    Nice and neutral and maybe a little amusing. Abel seemed to think he was funny for some reason, so maybe he'd get a small kick out of it.  
  
_hahaha. youre cute. if you have questions you can just ask me. i'll make an exception for you. not that youre bowlegged. yours are nice and straight and shapely_  
  
    Shapely. Akira snorted in disbelief, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile despite himself. Abel was going to be the fucking death of him.  
  
_Abel, I wear glasses. I'm not blind. You don't have to lie to me about the condition of my legs._  
_I'm flattered and all, but I'm not that easily distracted. Do you mind a short question-answer session some time? I'd like to see you again._  
  
    That didn't sound too thirsty, he thought. It was playful, but still to the point, and hopefully Abel would realize he wasn't a complete dimwit. He liked Abel a lot; that didn't mean he was going to let this silver-tongued little shit talk circles around him. If Akira was going to be hanging out with a dimension traveling cat lord, then he'd appreciate a few of the finer details. That was reasonable, right?  
  
_ooh lala. a little you-show-me-yours-i'll-show-you-mine affair. i can dig that. lets do that. you want to meet me somewhere next time youre free?_  
  
    Oh god. Akira's face grew hot, and he pinched his hand over his mouth as he squinted. Apparently, Abel was going to do his damnedest to talk circles around him anyway. What a punk ass.  
  
_Central Street. We can meet up by the bookstore. I'll text you as soon as I have some free time._  
  
    There. Perfect. That was actually pretty easy, to his astonishment. Abel hadn't tried to eat him even once.  
  
_lookin forward to it, handsome_  
_xoxo_  
  
    They both lapsed into silence, then, and Akira was left to at least entertain the idea of doing homework.  
  
    He did not want to do homework.  
  
    He wanted to ask Abel about his cape and his dumb headphones and his magic and which universe he was from. He wanted to ask what else he could do. Was he like a genie? Did he grant wishes? Or did he work exclusively in the stage show subsection of magic, with doves and sawing boxes and disappearing acts?  
  
    What were his limits? Did he _have_ limits?  
  
    Would he appreciate the irony of Akira's classmates snidely referring to him as Harry Potter behind his back when he was running around with an actual wizard?  
  
    Did he know about the Metaverse?  
  
    Did he know who Akira really was?  
  
    He lay there for several minutes while the questions tumbling around in his skull used his brain as their own personal merry-go-round. He wouldn't know any of those answers until he found the balls to ask, and good fucking luck with that. He still had a ways to go to be considered lionhearted.  
  
    Oh well. Akira forced himself off the bed to do his homework and try not to think about Abel the Enigmatic, or how attractively his cape framed his impish face.  
  
    He was able to finish his homework, but the questions dogged him through both sleep and school. Abel had said he wasn't trying to make himself into a 'tantalizing mystery'.  
  
    If only he knew.  
  
    Thankfully, Akira didn't have to sit through another week as agonizing as that first one. A few days later, Akira was blessed with a free afternoon. He texted Abel to let him know as much, and he didn't even wait for a response before he slid the door of his classroom open and made his way out of Shujin. He felt his phone vibrate against his thigh, but this time, he had the self-control not to check it until he reached the front gates.  
  
_i'll be waiting_ ♥  
  
    Nerd.  
  
    Akira didn't realize he was smiling until his face started to hurt.  
  
    He took the subway to Yongen-Jaya first so he could change clothes and drop Morgana off at Leblanc. Abel was a base enough perv that the last thing he needed was for Mona to go repeating literally anything he'd heard him say to Ann or Ryuji. Another jaunt on the subway had him at Central Street, and he emerged from the square to find Abel waiting exactly as he'd promised, leaning against a wall by the bookstore and seemingly oblivious to his own hair being tousled across his face.  
  
    It was so bright out that the sun bouncing off it made his hair look all the more vivid, like the feathers of a kingfisher that was anything but common. "Hey," Akira finally said.  
  
    "Hey, yourself!" Abel lifted his head smoothly and smiled at him. Now that everyone assumed his favorite hobby was physical assault, most people didn't even feign the attempt to make eye contact with him. Abel went straight for it, his eyes piercing straight through him, holding him still. "You had some questions for me?"  
  
    "A lot, to be specific, but it seems rude to ask them all at once."  
  
    "For sure." Abel laughed, tilting his head back even as he grabbed Akira's hand and began tugging him along down the sidewalk. "Try to keep them light, okay? I don't talk about my tragic backstory until at least the third date."  
  
    "No? I suppose that makes sense," Akira said, a little more slowly, following after him and smiling again. How did he always have something smarmy to say?  
  
    "Yeah, duh. I don't know about you, but I like to leave a little mystery. Keeps the magic alive."  
  
    Akira forgot the response he'd been formulating when he noticed that Abel was no longer looking at him. Up until then, he'd given Akira the impression that he was wholly unfamiliar with the rule of body language that stated 100% unbroken eye contact was not so much 'vested interest' as it was 'physical threat'. But now his attention was very much distracted away from Akira; he was watching something very intently over his shoulder.  
  
    "What's up?"  
  
    His red eyes snapped straight back into Akira's. "Hm? Nothing. Come on!"  
  
    This time, he snatched up Akira's other hand too and began plowing into the crowd, walking backwards despite Akira's immediate protestation.  
  
    "Abel, watch-"  
  
    To his mounting shock, there was nothing for Abel to watch. Just before he ran straight into the back of an older lady, she slid out of his way without so much as a glance. And so did the next guy, and the one after him. The entire crowd parted from them as if on instinct. Abel was Moses, and the sea was a whole bunch of Japanese people who didn't even seem to notice they were there.  
  
    Akira blinked. Then he shut his mouth, his fingers tightening around Abel's pale hands. Abel wasn't even looking his way. He was back to peering over Akira's shoulder, and his lips very slowly slid back from his teeth, the biggest, cattiest smirk he'd ever seen seizing him.  
  
    He was moments away from digging his heels in to stop him when Abel did that for him, pushing closer to him and speaking into his ear. "Don't look now, but I think you've developed an admirer."  
  
    "What?"  
  
    Abel's grip on him eased, then fell away. Akira pivoted and craned his neck. Several feet behind them was Makoto, who turned away from them and promptly buried her face into a book. He blinked several more times. Then he laughed into his palm. "Subtle," he commented.  
  
    Equally subtly, Akira jumped about a meter into the air as Abel's chin dropped to his shoulder. "Her extremely crafty hunting prowess nearly got me, but in the end, she was no match for my observational skills. Plus I couldn't help noticing that she spent all that time behind you and didn't _once_ look at your ass. Just seems like a wasted opportunity. You know her?"  
  
    His question spared Akira from having to respond to Abel's comment about his ass. He pushed his glasses up higher and tilted his head slightly, but Abel was impossible to look at with his chin on his shoulder like that. Makoto was still pretending to be deeply engrossed in whatever book she had clutched in her hands. "She's the student council president at my school."  
  
    Abel pulled away from him and quirked an eyebrow. His hands slid into his pockets, and he swung back towards Akira. "And she's covertly tailing an angel like you because...?"  
  
    He pinched his fingers around the curl that fell over the bridge of his nose and twisted as he considered what to say. He had asked Abel for a question-answer session. He'd never specified that Abel would be the only one to answer any. And if Abel wanted to hang out with him, it struck him as unchivalrous behavior to allow him to do so without knowing the truth of Akira's situation. If anyone saw them together, Akira's bad reputation would quickly become Abel's.  
  
    He let go finally and ignored Makoto, facing Abel, his eyes flickering along the length of his face. "She and all the rest of the students at my school think I'm a blood-thirsty sociopath."  
  
    He had expected Abel to spit out something witty and disarming without even needing to stop to take a breath, but he was still staring at him, his face blank. Maybe he was waiting for him to finish off with a 'just kidding', but Akira did not.  
  
    "Wh- You're serious." Abel threw his head back and laughed, both his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes amused but his mouth completely disbelieving. "Why do they think that?"  
  
    Akira hesitated again, but this particular pause was a great deal shorter. "Because I have a criminal record."  
  
    It occurred to him that it felt extremely weird to render Abel silent. Apparently even wizards could be surprised sometimes. He recovered in short order, though, leaning closer to him with exaggeratedly wide eyes. " _Akira_ ," he whispered, his voice hushed with scandal. Then he scoffed, clicking his tongue behind his teeth as he leaned on his shoulders. "I knew you were bad news when I saw the tattoos on your knuckles."  
  
    "Yeah." He smiled, tiny but warm as Abel touched him so brazenly out in public. "I'm bad to the bone."  
  
    Again, Abel dropped his arm, genuine surprise alighting over his face. Then he laughed so hard he nearly cried, pushing his forehead into Akira's shoulder and grasping at his stomach. "Oh fucking please! You look like the most disrespectful thing you ever did in your life was not take your shoes off at someone's house."  
  
    Well, that was uncalled for. Akira was a vigilante now, more or less. That merited being considered at least a little bad, right?  
  
    Abel was busy ignoring him, though, looking back at Makoto and tapping his chin. "Let's ditch the president. Watch this." He held one of his hands before Akira's face and snapped, his thumb skipping across his middle finger, the index flickering with a dramatic flourish. His eyes were glued to Makoto as she peeked their way, and the book went slipping from her fingertips.  
  
    She stared wildly at the place they were still standing. He could almost see the whites of her dark eyes even from this far away. She craned her neck, seeming to sweep the streets for them before she finally picked up her book and hurried towards their direction.  
  
    Abel nudged him out of the way, and Makoto blew straight past them.  
  
    "...Are we invisible?" he finally asked.  
  
    Abel tittered and lifted his shoulders. "Essentially? If you wanna get all technical about it, no we aren't. As of right now, if anyone looks in our direction, their brain won't register that we're here.  The distinction is so minimal as to be meaningless, but you get the idea."  
  
    With that, Abel grabbed his hand and dragged him down the road, looking around with interest. "So, where we doing this? You probably want to sit somewhere, huh?"  
  
    That did sound pretty nice. Akira twisted his hand and curled his fingers around Abel's bony wrist instead, and he led him up the stairs into the diner he liked. He could order some coffee or something while they chatted. Of course, being waited on in a diner meant they would need to actually be visible to others, so Abel dropped whatever strange thing he'd done and plopped down into the booth Akira favored in the corner. It was at least marginally quieter over here.  
  
    When they were presented with their cups of coffee and they'd both settled in, it became clear that Abel had had the same thought as Akira. He lifted his eyes, sharp as the King of Diamonds, and the corners of his mouth drew upward. "So. What's the story, morning glory?"  
  
    "Huh?" Oh. Right. The whole criminal record. Of course he'd be curious.  
  
    Akira frowned into the dark liquid of his coffee and stirred it almost idly. It was steaming gently, wafting up from the surface until he pursed his lips and blew. Abel was still watching him, intent, his red eyes steady and gently probing. It made it near impossible for him to speak.  
  
    "It's a long story," he murmured, measuring each of his words with such care that it annoyed him he still managed to produce nothing but a tired cliché.  
  
    "I bet you can condense it better than you think you can." Abel smiled, a hint of knowing in the corners of his eyes as they crinkled. But he looked away, mercifully, and slapped a hand over a stack of napkins that he pulled closer to him. He plucked one off the top and smoothed it out in front of him. He was confident that there was no end to the number of ways Abel could surprise him. He tugged a hilariously long box of crayons straight out of his cape and set them on the table. "I'm listening," he said, while Akira watched him search through it for a black crayon that he pulled out and poised over the napkin.  
  
    He took a slow sip of his coffee and followed the strokes of the crayon, curious until the better defined features of a cat started to form. Cute. Abel was so weird and cute.  
  
    "I was arrested for physically assaulting a man. I'm currently on probation." Huh, that actually was pretty condensed. Abel snickered at him and kept doodling, drawing pointy little cat ears and a tiny triangle nose.  
  
    "Mm. And?"  
  
    Akira canted his head.  
  
    Abel motioned with the hand not currently occupied with his cat doodle. "You said 'I was arrested _for_ physically assaulting a man', not 'I was arrested _after_ I physically assaulted a man', so given that and from what I know about you, I'm guessing it's not as cut and dried as all that, huh?"  
  
    "Ah. Yeah. I didn't actually assault anyone. Some drunk prick was trying to force himself on a lady. I did pull him off her, but he tripped and hit his head." He pinched his lips again, but they went slack as he touched the glass rim of the cup to his lips and took another long sip. It wasn't as good as Leblanc's, but it was pretty serviceable regardless.  
  
    Abel's crayon fell still. He sat there, motionless for all of a minute, then went back to his drawing as if nothing had happened. "That does sound like something you'd do," he mused.  
  
    Akira almost snorted into his coffee and set it back down on its plate. "Is that a compliment, or an insult?"  
  
    He could see the smile playing on Abel's face despite it being tilted down over the napkin. "I only have the nicest things to say about you, Akira." The cat was starting to look really nice. He drew big, cute eyes and a swishy tail behind it. "Okay, so all your classmates think you beat up drunkards for fun. I'm slowly piecing it together. That girl did seem to give less of an ill-hidden infatuation vibe than one like she was waiting for you to whip a prison shank out of your pants, but that still doesn't explain why she was following you."  
  
    "That I don't know," he admitted. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He had a pretty good idea, but there was enough wriggle room to fit a lot more doubt than he'd like.  
  
    "Hmmm." Abel finished up his cat, but then decided to change his mind and drew curly whiskers with little flicks of his fingertips. "I don't buy that you being a delinquent is enough reason for stalkerhood, but we'll set that aside for now. What's up with that blond guy?"  
  
    "Ryuji? He's my friend. He and Ann don't mind my hooliganism, I guess. We're all outsiders together. Ryuji's on thin ice, though."  
  
    Abel blinked and lifted his eyes finally. He had started to draw a spade that he was halfway through filling in with black. Amused, Akira smiled back at him and put the rim back to his mouth.  
  
    "He and Mishima made me call a maid service and then ditched me. I don't even like maids."  
  
    "Oh, ick." Abel's nose wrinkled sharply, and he rolled his eyes and looked back down at the napkin and scribbled another, flatter spade. Then he paused and chortled to himself. "I like spades. Don't they kind of look like dickheads?" He decided to prove his point by drawing an actual dickhead beside it, then gave it a smiley face. Akira had to stop watching him before he choked on coffee. "Anyway, why'd he want to call a maid service if he was just going to wuss out?"  
  
    Akira shrugged. He scraped the edges of his nails along the curved handle of the mug and glanced over to see Abel sliding the black crayon back into its slot and rooting around for a different color. "I don't know. Mishima implied it was sketchy to cover his ass, but I think they both just wanted to perv on a maid."  
  
    "But then ran away like little babies? Obviously they didn't want to that bad." Again, he rolled his eyes dramatically, and he yanked out a peachy color with a sarcastic toss of his hair. "Some people. Sounds like they doth protest too much." He started drawing the vague shape of a person from what he could guess. Oh, yes. It was definitely a person. He gave it a pretty generous ass.  
  
    "It's fine. Being able to look past my grizzled, criminal demeanor gives him a pass in my book," Akira finally noted, smiling bigger. "He's not so bad. I like the butt."  
  
    "Thanks! I'm pretty great at drawing butts. Also dicks."  
  
    That time, Akira did choke on his coffee. Oh god, he was an actual five year old. "Is that right?" he finally managed, once the coffee was done scalding his entire nasal cavity.  
  
    "Yeah. I'll show you." He abandoned the peach color and grabbed a green one, to Akira's unending confusion, and he shifted to the corner of the napkin and started drawing a curved penis. With a nose. And mouth. And tentacles.  
  
    "...Does it have a chariot?"  
  
    "Yeah, duh. How else would it get anywhere?" Abel asked him in a tone like that was the most obvious thing in the universe, and Akira was a huge dork for even asking. It made him laugh all the harder. This entire situation was absurd, but it was enough to make him forget his irritation over Makoto's hounding.  
  
    It was nice. They spent almost an hour talking over Abel and his completely silly napkin doodles. Abel made it clear he wasn't going to drink his coffee, so Akira finished it for him and got a double dose of guts. Fuck yeah.  
  
    The cafe was beginning to empty out, and Abel had leaned back to stretch when Akira realized he hadn't asked Abel a single question.  
  
    What the hell. Had Abel done that on purpose? Or was he just too easily distracted by this charming loser and his napkin drawings?  
  
    He opened his mouth and was abruptly interrupted by Abel. "We should go to the movies some time! I haven't been in years, I'm way out of the loop."  
  
    "But-" Akira shut his mouth as Abel's eyes meet his own again, inquisitive but so damn piercing. Next time. Abel hadn't said anything about pulling a more permanent disappearing act. It would be fine. He'd have more chances.  
  
    "What's up?"  
  
    Akira dropped his gaze to the napkin and tapped it with his fingertip, sliding it over to him. "Can I keep it?"  
  
    Abel reared back in his seat. "You want to?"  
  
    "Yeah. I like it."  
  
    He was stunned, yet again, into silence. He looked...touched. It made his insides do things he couldn't even begin to describe. "Yeah. Of course you can. I'll draw you something better next time, okay?"  
  
    Next time. There would absolutely be a next time. "Sounds perfect." Akira took the napkin and draped it over his hand. "Looking forward to it."  
  
    "Me too." Abel stood up, stretching his skinny arms over head and cracking his neck. "You can ask me your questions next time. I kinda monopolized it, huh? I'm sorry."  
  
    Oh. Well then. "It's okay," he told him. He meant it very much. "I'll keep an eye out for any wandering student council presidents on the way home. You might want to do the same."  
  
    "Mm. Will do." One of Abel's hands lifted, and Akira braced himself for him to crackle out of existence again. But he hesitated, his gaze heavy on Akira's face  
  
    Then he grabbed one of his hands and pulled it close, bringing it up to his mouth and pouring a slow kiss across the back of it. "Good night, delinquent."  
  
     _Then_ he disappeared.  
  
    Akira didn't mind as much this time.  
  
    His hand still felt warm with Abel's touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **chapter 2 bonus:**
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> **ps**. Abel has an [art blog](https://literallyabel.tumblr.com/)! 


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

 

    After Madarame's deeply uncomfortable and awkwardly tearful press conference, Akira's life became a great deal more hectic. The Phantom Thieves had finally made their debut as something newsworthy, his friends were eager to hang out, and Makoto was ever more aggressive in her hints that unlike a majority of the adults in their lives, she had the observational skills of something other than an easily distracted goldfish. He was given zero opportunities to make up for the question-answer session he never got to have. Akira ought to have expected it.  
  
    Between team building exercises, book cramming, and speech therapy, he was afforded no time at all to see Abel in person. But to his relief -- and maybe a slight tinge of regret after a few too many close brushes with disruptive laughter mid-class -- Abel was perfectly happy to talk to him through text. His catlord was a chatty one, after all.  
  
    He was also a lot more forthcoming from behind a screen, which actually did come as a bit of a surprise to Akira. Some of the things he said were very...telling, and they usually came from the most absurd of conversations.  
  
     The night before the press conference, Akira received a series of texts from him that succeeded in completely distracting him from his nerves.  
  
_omg_  
_i texted a friend of mine in this universe and he just sent me a series of little fucking pictures. what the fuck is this_  
_i dont know how to interpret this. what is this bullshit? what do these mean?_  
_its the 21st goddamned century. everyone has a tiny computer in their pockets_  
_people can charge their cell phones on airplane windows and shit. its literally never been easier to text_  
_and youre gonna tell me we're back to using fucking hieroglyphics? unbelievable_  
  
    Akira couldn't resist. He sent back, '', and Abel refused to speak to him for the rest of the night. He deserved it, he knew. But it was worth it.  
  
    Even when they were both too busy for texts, Abel never strayed far from his mind. While it was true that his unanswered questions had disappointed him, Akira couldn't help but kind of enjoy the chance to piece it together on his own. It was like his own personal mystery novel, but no one was in immediate danger, and the only real stakes were his own sense of satisfaction.  
  
    Some things were obvious enough. Abel liked cats, music was so important to him he kept an MP3 player clipped to his collar, and he was secure enough in his masculinity to sport highly immodest, loudly hot pink pants. Also obvious was that he'd been living under a rock for quite some time, his texts had indicated that there were multiple versions of people across these universes of his, and he didn't know what emojis were.  
  
    It took him a little longer to notice, but on top of all the rest of it, Abel hadn't recognized any pop culture reference Akira had made from within the last couple of years. Abel was quick to understand older jokes or media, and he himself made references that Akira couldn't hope to fathom. But it interested him. He wasn't sure if Abel's own universe was that different, or if he was a time traveler, or if he had just been under a rock in his own universe too.  
  
    Then there was the matter of his arcana.  
  
    Akira had never taken a particular interest in tarot, or any other mysticism for that matter, and that hadn't necessarily changed even now that he had a reason to. But he'd at least _heard_ of the other arcana he was steadily earning with each new confidant he stumbled across. Babalon was completely foreign to him, however. It was also impossible to search. He tried Googling every variation of 'Babylon +tarot' he could think of, including filtering out 'city' or 'Bible' to try and find results that were actually relevant, but he came up short each time.  
  
    He had yet to meet a tarot expert on his journey, but he did know someone he could ask.  
  
    The next time he had business on Central Street, Akira veered off into the alleyway the Velvet Room was sequestered in and was pleased to see Justine leaning against the hazy cell door. The relief rolling off his body was likely palpable. Any time he saw Caroline perched at the top of it, he had to do some pretty involved mental calculus to decide how badly he really needed to mix and match his Personas. The usual answer was: not badly enough.  
  
    Justine swung the door open for him to let him inside, and he once more found himself face to face with his extremely blue jail cell. As far as prisons went, it could be worse. The blue was actually quite pretty, and vibrant enough it wasn't drab, despite the surroundings. It almost reminded him of Abel's hair. Incidentally, the chains reminded him of Abel too, for some reason. It just seemed like he would enjoy the...look. He couldn't comment on whether or not he'd appreciate their purpose as well. At least not yet.  
  
    Akira didn't much like it, but it was certainly an aesthetic. He could do without the disgusting uniform, though. Mystery stains were desperately unappealing by nature, and it irked him, if only a little, that he was forced into something so unflattering. People thought he was unfuckable enough as it was without him trying to pull off horizontal stripes like a tool; it was just a blessing that no one was there to see him whose opinion of his fuckability actually mattered to him.  
  
    He stepped across the length of his cell, cold concrete biting into the soles of his bare feet. This entire place seemed like it was designed for the sole purpose of keeping him around as little as strictly necessary.  
  
    His fingers curled loosely around the bars as he faced Igor. "I'd like to see some of the Personas I can fuse."  
  
    That was a Caroline thing, but she always ignored him unless he went through the effort of asking Igor first so that Igor could then turn around and tell her to do it. It used to sting, the way she called him 'inmate', her tongue lashing the 't' against the back of her teeth like a whip. Either he'd grown a thicker skin, or she was going to have to break out something new if she wanted it to cut the same. Maybe if she called him an ugly permavirgin or something, or made fun of his developing vampire fetish.  
  
    He took his time rifling through the potential fusions, but none of them were marked as belonging to the Babalon arcana. Weird. He frowned mildly and shuffled to the side where Justine stood, his hip jostling the metal tray sitting there. He hadn't even noticed it was there until then, despite having visited a fair few times. Dumbly, Akira blinked down at it. They had bothered to make a food slot? As if any of these people would actually feed him. Please. Then again, there was a toilet here too, and he'd sooner execute himself than try and take a leak in front of two mean little girls who wore shorts bigger than their sense of tact. No thanks.  
  
    "Justine? May I see the Compendium?" Now he was curious. He'd at least gotten a glimpse of some capabilities of most all the arcana by then, and he hadn't even met whoever belonged to the Star, or the Tower. But he hadn't seen a trace of anything that might be associated with Abel.  
  
    Sure enough, the Compendium confirmed his suspicions. Listing it by arcana showed no Persona whatsoever belonging to Babalon. Interesting. He leaned away from the cell door, his fingertips drumming a steady tempo against the chilly bars. "Do Babalon Personas not exist?" he asked slowly. Both girls looked at him and frowned. Caroline scrunched her nose and flattened her lips in hawkish disapproval.  
  
    "Huh?"  
  
    "The Babalon arcana."  
  
    Caroline frowned so hard he was impressed her face didn't break. "Th- there's no such thing," she snapped at him, and she slammed her electric baton against the bars just to emphasize her point. Akira blinked back at her and swiftly released the bars.  
  
    "But I met someone-"  
  
    Akira paused, then closed his mouth. Igor was the one who had said he put these confidants of his into place. Justine and Caroline had made it more than clear they were aware of them, as well as his progress in bonding with them. Did they not know about Abel?  
  
    Fascinating.  
  
    He felt a smile twitch at the corners of his mouth. So Abel was a mystery even to these other, equally mysterious people. That _really_ worked for him. The idea that even they had no idea Akira had befriended him was enormously satisfying. It felt like a delicious secret, to have met someone outside the bounds of whatever warped game he'd found himself playing.  
  
    "Met whom?" Justine's softer voice cut through his musings, but she looked about as amused as Caroline did.  
  
    Akira shook his head. "Nevermind. I was just curious."  
  
    They hadn't been able to answer his question, but regardless, the trip didn't feel like a waste at all. There was one other person he might be able to ask.  
  
    And he just so happened to have a free day to ask it.  
  
    The day before his stupid class field trip, Akira texted Abel to invite him out to the movies, which he'd graciously accepted. Truth be told, Abel's schedule was as complete an enigma to him as Abel himself. He didn't have to go to school, and it was quite the challenge to imagine a wizard having to hold down a full time job to support himself in a world that bent to his whim. Akira could have asked at any time, but it struck him as unnecessarily rude to say, 'hey, what do you do all day when you're not sending me cat memes or making me choke on my own spit in the middle of class?'. It's not like he expected the answer to be, 'wait for you to stop being busy', but he still couldn't bring himself to ask.  
  
    Whatever his schedule looked like, Abel was perfectly happy to meet him at the theater in Shibuya. Akira made his way there that evening, eager to see his friend after so many days. Just seeing the points of those dorky headphones thrust over the top of his head lifted Akira's mood.  
  
    Abel was waiting for him near the entrance, and he was smiling before Akira even reached him. "Hey there, stranger. I missed you!" He perked up, spinning so his shoulder was flush with Akira's, and together they stepped inside the theater. "Oh man, today I talked to some old guy named...I think he said it was Yoshida? He said he knew you, so we talked about you behind your back. He was telling me about all kinds of crazy political stuff I've missed out on. Man, your universe really sucks!" he announced, as if this were incredibly hilarious, and he whipped his head towards Akira and grinned for his benefit. "This is, like, some darkest timeline shit."  
  
    That was quite a bit of material to sift through. Akira blinked, owlish as he nudged the bridge of his glasses with a fingertip. "Doesn't it defeat the purpose of talking about me behind my back if you tell me that you did to my face?"  
  
    "Nah, not if they were nice things! I don't know who he thought I was, but he was bragging about how helpful you were like I was your dad or something. Oh, maybe he thought I was your troubled younger brother and he was encouraging me to follow your sterling lead. I bet that was it. Anyway, he said you're great. But then we got interrupted by some heckler who called him 'No-Good Tora', and that was a total mood killer. At least for him. No-Good Tora! He was so devastated!" Abel laughed, his hand hovering over his mouth like he at least had the decency to at least try and feel bad for being so amused at Yoshida's expense, but he ultimately rolled his shoulders and shot Akira a terribly innocent expression. "It's mean to laugh, but it's just such a tame insult! I've heard some seriously vicious nicknames for politicians, but he was legitimately wounded! It was kind of charming. He was a nice guy."  
  
    "Yeah, he is a really nice guy." Akira smiled slightly as Abel took him into their theater, and they sat as close to the middle as they could. It wasn't terribly packed tonight, which was nice. Abel flopped down beside him as if it were his own personal living room and lolled his head towards him.  
  
    "Thanks for inviting me out. It's good to see you again." He leaned forward in his seat, his elbows dropping to his knees. "To be honest, I'm surprised you took me up on my request. I know you never got to ask any questions, and that's kinda tricky in a theater."  
  
    Akira shrugged at him and rolled his head back, a hand falling to the back of his neck. "You said we had time, so I'm holding you to that. That said, I actually did have one question for you tonight, if you don't mind?"  
  
    Abel was watching him, his eyes flickering slightly, back and forth across Akira's face. "Sure. What's up? I'll answer if I can."  
  
    Well. There went nothing. Akira nodded once and tilted his head to meet his pretty eyes. They looked a lot darker in the dim light of the theater, less spider lily red and more like maraschino cherries. "Have you ever heard of Babalon?"  
  
    Again, Abel blinked at him, his head cocking further. "Babylon? Like the city?"  
  
    Akira shook his head. "No, it's something to do with tarot. I'm having trouble figuring out what it is."  
  
    "Tarot, huh?" Abel looked yet more curious, but for the moment, he tapped his nails against his knee and gave Akira's question some thought. "Oh! Babalon, with an 'a'. Okay, I'm with you now. You might have heard of the Whore of Babylon? Well, Babalon _is_ the whore. The Sacred Whore, to be more specific. You might be thinking of the Lust card from the Thoth deck. Oh, or if you knew what her name was, then you might actually be thinking of the Enoch deck instead. Babalon is the second card, but the actual arcana name is 'ARN', technically. That might be why you're having trouble finding information about it."  
  
    Holy shit. He actually knew. Quite in depth, apparently. "You a tarot expert?" Akira asked, his lips twitching into another smile.  
  
    Abel simply snorted at him and leaned back, drawing his hands over his head and stretching with all the fluid grace of a cat. "That's two questions, you know. But no. Bible expert, actually. I only know about the weird decks that are more biblical in nature."  
  
    Bible expert? Akira could surmise how surprised he looked just by the intense amusement playing across Abel's face. "Are you devout?" he asked, already doubting the answer would be yes. Why would it be? Abel was pretty damned irreverent. An interest in Christian theology was the last thing Akira would have ascribed to him. Perhaps he simply enjoyed the irony?  
  
    Indeed, Abel laughed and leaned back into the arm of his seat. "Devoutly terrible, maybe. I wouldn't exactly call myself a lamb of God, if that's what you mean." His face fell a bit, going blank before his lips drew into a vicious slash of a smirk. "Actually, I take that back, I would absolutely call myself a lamb of God. But to answer your question, it's complicated. I'll tell you about it some other time."  
  
    "Okay. I'll keep that in mind." He was going to have to, at any rate. The theater grew dimmer until the lights shut off entirely. It was short lived, but he had been offered more information than he'd thought he'd get.  
  
    Akira settled into the back of the seat, folding his arms across his chest and focusing on the screen. He really liked going to the movies, and not just for the mercenary efficiency that was boosting stats while also making friends. That was just a bonus.  
  
    It was nice to give the full brunt of his attention to something that wasn't life or death. It was only a few hours, but that was a few hours he wasn't thinking about school or this god awful TV station field trip or that they were being inundated with comments from an uncomfortable percentage of people on the internet talking shit.  
  
    By the time the credits ended, his entire body felt looser, and he turned over to see Abel sitting almost diagonally in his seat, staring at him, his eyes wide and unblinking. Akira looked back at him weirdly. "...What?"  
  
    "Did you...enjoy it?" Abel asked, his words halting.  
  
    What? It was difficult to hide how bewildered he was. "Yeah, I loved it," Akira told him, a bit painfully earnest.  
  
    Abel collapsed onto the seat, both his skinny arms clutching his middle as he howled with laughter. What the fuck?! What was that reaction?  
  
    "Did you? I couldn't tell!" He struggled to sit up again and wiped his face. "Oh my god, you were in the fucking _zone_. You're a stone cold fox, Akira. You just sat there like a statue. Completely unmoved. I mimicked your pose and waited for you to notice, but you didn't even glance at me. I got tired and had to stop and start it like six times."  
  
    Oh. God. The slow creep of heat slid up from his neck up beneath his cheeks. Abel had watched him the entire time and he hadn't even noticed? "...I can't believe you were making fun of me."  
  
    "No, it was charming!" Abel laughed all the harder and dropped his head to Akira's bony shoulder, still overcome with giggles. "You were clearly very focused. It was cute. I'm glad you liked it so much, even if you looked like you were at a funeral. I was honestly worried you hated it."  
  
    "Oh." Akira relaxed by degrees. So long as he thought it was charming and not stupid. "Sorry. I just...really like movies." He twirled his fingers around his forelock and tried to wrestle his nerves under control.  
  
    Abel flopped back against his seat and gave him a smile that touched his whole face. "Don't apologize for liking stuff. I didn't mean to embarrass you, really. It's good to know you're such a movie buff. You take your cinema very seriously!"  
  
    Well, he couldn't argue with that. Akira lifted his shoulders again. "Yeah. I like having something that keeps my attention like that. Plus it helps me be nicer to people," he added, a touch rueful as he smiled back at Abel.  
  
    He was met with an amused little huff of breath. "You? Need help being nicer to people? I don't buy it, toots. You know, just because other people constantly talk about you being a criminal and gossip about you making shivs in your spare time doesn't mean you actually are, or do."  
  
    Akira laughed and pushed himself to his feet, the seat creaking as it swung up behind him. "Tell that to my classmates."  
  
    Abel stood beside him and lifted both his eyebrows. "Okay, I will. Where would you like me to start?"  
  
    Hesitation besieged his insides. He never, ever knew whether or not to take such things seriously. Abel could absolutely mean that. He could also be fucking with him, and there was no way for him to tell which was which. "You don't actually have to. And I doubt you'd want to accompany us on this lame field trip anyway. Maybe you can some other time."  
  
    "Ooh, field trip, huh?" Abel followed him out of the theater with his hands wedged so tightly into his pockets, Akira could follow the curves of his knuckles against the fabric. "Where are they shuffling you off to?"  
  
    "TV station."  
  
    "That doesn't sound too lame. Chin up, it could be fun. Not as fun as hanging out with me, though," he added, earning another laugh from Akira. "So how did you hear about Babalon? She's pretty obscure."  
  
    Akira stayed silent longer than he wanted. He wasn't sure how to answer; his friends had their own Personas, but they knew nothing about the Velvet Room, or that they were his confidants at all. He'd never had to explain to anyone what their arcana was.  "...Fellow cat enthusiast," he finally said. It made his stomach burn to hear Abel laugh so hard.  
  
    "Mm, then I won't pry. Let me know if you find anything interesting, okay? I'm curious who's going around telling innocent young school boys about sacred whores."  
  
    Oh, if only he knew.  
  
    Akira turned towards him and flashed him an uncharacteristically wide smile. "Would that be a problem for you? Someone going around debauching my innocence?"  
  
    "Yeah, clearly!" Abel scoffed and threw his head back, his fingers twining together at the back of his skull. "That's my job. I don't want anyone filling your cute, virgin ears with filth unless that person is me."  
  
    Hell. Maybe he did know. Akira would be as shocked as a stone if he did.  
  
    "How do you know my ears are virginal?" Oh no. That sounded much better in his head.  
  
    Abel snickered too and peered at him, askance. "Akira, are you doing weird things with your ears?"  
  
    "Hanging out with you." Yes. Perfect recovery. Even Abel doubled over with laughter and shoved his shoulder. The open delight in his face made Akira feel _amazing_.  
  
    "I guess that's true. Don't pretend like your life isn't all the richer for having me in it."  
  
    "I would never." Akira fell still as Abel stopped and turned to face him, his face open and bright in the streetlights.

    "Would you hate it?" Abel asked.  
  
    "Huh?"  
  
    One of his hands wriggled out from his pocket as Abel threw his head to the side and lifted one of his headphones to scratch at his ear. "If I came to your school."  
  
    The idea of it was actually pretty appealing, but he was baffled as to why Abel would even want to. School was dull as shit, and it wasn't as though Abel would be permitted to sit in his classes with him. Regardless, he shook his head slowly and toyed with an errant curl in his face. "No, I wouldn't. But I wouldn't want you to be bored out of your mind either."  
  
    Abel didn't answer him at all. He regarded him with another sharp, impish smile as he eyed him. He could catch every tiny shift of his irises. Briefly, he was reminded of those weird cat clocks with the moving eyes. "I'll see you soon, Akira. Thanks for coming out with me." Both Akira's hands were snatched up into his grip, and Abel ducked forward to kiss the backs of them. "Get home safe, delinquent."  
  
    This time when he vanished, Akira didn't even blink. Instead he brushed each of his thumbs over his fingers and peered down at his hands.  
  
    He would be Googling ARN tonight for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **chapter 3 bonus** :
> 
>   
>    
> 


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

 

 

    Day one of the social studies field trip was a god damned disaster.  
  
    One could be forgiven for thinking that not a soul in that entire station had been forewarned of their arrival; every single adult they came across acted as if they'd never been more inconvenienced in their entire lives. The first lady was really something. Either she thought they were the world's tallest kindergarten class, or she'd never actually encountered a real teenager in her life, because the way she spoke to them was absolutely insufferable. 'You might say that where we do the editing is called the editing room!' No shit, Producer Holmes. Akira hadn't felt that condescended to even after he'd been arrested for having the audacity to be in the same area as a man who fell on his face.  
  
    Of course, he couldn't find it in himself to complain when he was hardly the only one who had a bad day. It would seem everyone was destined to have an obnoxious run in. He ought to have asked if they'd all had the same shitty newspaper horoscope. Ann was perved on by some camera jockey who was only two steps away from being a CSI: Tokyo villain, and Ryuji was treated like a particularly talkative monkey. In comparison, his own brush with assholery felt petty to bitch about. Akira was almost glad that he was merely shoved by some dickhead anchorman who thought he was a Big Deal.  
  
    Whatever. It was shitty, but it was survivable. Ann and Ryuji had taken him to Dome Town after they were released, which would have made up for it if it hadn't been for that unbelievably awkward encounter just before they left.  
  
    He wasn't a total shut in, so Akira had at least heard of Goro Akechi before. The Detective Prince was nice enough when he'd introduced himself, but the whole first impression thing was somewhat soured since Akira couldn't quite bring himself to overlook that Akechi had heard his cat speak, or that he was the only one who seemed to notice. Akechi told them they were going to be filming with him the next day. Of course they were.  
  
    Part of him was relieved to hear it. No creepy camera techs could make them run cables if they were all busy sitting in the audience. On the other hand, Akira was admittedly surprised they were even being allowed back the next day, considering what an intolerable nuisance the staff thought them to be. Perhaps the world wasn't done punishing his class yet.  
  
    Akira didn't want to think about a second day at the station. He didn't want to think about having to watch Akechi and his perfect, inoffensive face performing for the cameras, or listen to his classmates speculate what the Good Detective's dick would taste like. He didn't even want to eat, not when his hands still burned with the faint sensation of heavy rubber. He was sure his palms had permanent indents now.  
  
    He wanted to see Abel again. Akira didn't have time to think about anything else when he was hanging out with him. But his legs were stretched out across his bed like lead, and he was already comfortable, even with his face buried in his pillow, so a night out didn't seem to be on the agenda.  
  
    Well. Maybe not that comfortable. It was hard to breathe. Akira rolled over and slapped a hand over his cell phone, lifting it up over his face and opening his browser. Morgana had distracted him last night, but right now, just before passing out, it seemed like good timing. He Googled 'babalon arn' together, and he was rewarded with links that were relevant to his interests this time. Amazing.  
  
    He opened one of the links and squinted at it before he slipped his glasses from his nose and pushed them onto the empty shelf closest to his head.  
  
    'In the first place, there is again the woman riding on the bull, which is the reflection of BABALON, that rideth on The Beast. And also there is an Assyrian legend of a woman with a fish, and also there is a legend of Eve and the Serpent, for Cain was the the child of Eve and the Serpent, and not of Eve and Adam; and therefore when he had slain his brother, who was the first murderer, having sacrificed living things to his demon, had Cain the mark upon his brow, which is the mark of the Beast spoken of in the Apocalypse, and is the sign of initiation.'  
  
    He struggled through the first whole paragraph before he had to stop and back button. He was pretty decent with English thanks to his schooling, but that shit was too dense even for him. Perhaps he'd have better luck with a different site.  
  
    Akira thumbed another link, and he was pleasantly surprised to see an image of the card itself. It was a woman, to his surprise, her entire body an orange color that made her appear to be wreathed in flame, or made of it. But it occurred to him that it was stupid to be surprised when Abel had already told him that she was. Plus the first site referred to her as a woman riding a bull, so...duh. Still, it seemed odd to him; so far, all his confidants had aligned with the gender of their respective cards. More or less. At least, all the cards that _had_ a gender. It was interesting to him that someone like Abel was associated with a feminine card.  
  
    Strange card or no, he liked this site a lot better than the first one.  
  
    It was much shorter.  
  
    'BABALON  
    Intense bliss, intense joy, happiness, harmony  
     Reversed: Intense pain, intense suffering, intense discord'  
  
    That was certainly pretty unambiguous. Akira blinked and scrolled down a little more, but that was all there was to read as far as the card's meaning went.  
  
    He wasn't really sure what to make of it. Intense joy and suffering? That didn't seem like Abel at all. He certainly was intense, but emotionally so? Abel struck him as the exact opposite. He did laugh a lot, but that was sort of the problem. He found everything amusing, and that was as far as his reactions went. It was as though Abel didn't _want_ to engage any deeper than that. Everything was a joke for him. Was it simply a front? Or was Akira looking for things that weren't actually there based on a cursory internet search of a fucking tarot card?  
  
    Whatever Akira thought, it did fascinate him to consider. He still didn't know anything about Abel's life at all. He also hadn't bothered to look up anyone else's arcana to make a judgment as to how 'accurate' they might or might not be, so as far as Abel went, he really had no place to say. Maybe it was bullshit.  
  
    He moved to minimize the browser when an alert with Abel's face popped up at the top of his phone. Akira opened it eagerly.  
  
_hey cute stuff. how was your field trip?_  
  
    Speaking of Abel and jokes. A smile touched the corners of his mouth before he finished a response. _Terrible. Ann got propositioned, then Ryuji and I were shanghaied into manual labor. If they'd told us upfront we would be visiting a landlocked pirate ship, I might have actually been excited._  
  
    He sent that, then hesitated and sent a second one. _Did you know edits are done in the editing room?_  
  
    Abel's response was swift as ever.  
  
_LMAO_  
_omg that sounds awful. is every adult in your life secretly a cartoon villain?_  
  
    Akira found himself wondering the same thing. Frequently _. I'm starting to think so. Some news anchor knocked into me so hard I did a literal 180._  
  
    That time, Abel's response came a little slower. _are you serious?_  
  
_Yeah. It's not a big deal. I'm mostly mad that we have to go back and do it again tomorrow. I did meet the famous Detective Prince. Apparently he likes pancakes._  
  
    Why had he sent that? Abel wouldn't care. Too late to take it back now.  
  
_tomorrow huh? ok_  
_you should get some rest, i'm sure youre tired. sleep tight handsome. sorry everyone you know is shit_  
  
    Akira snorted quietly, his face softening as he read. _You're starting to sound like my cat._  
  
_huh?_  
  
_Nevermind. Good night, Abel._  
  
    Reluctantly, he closed the messenger and opened his alarm clock when a handful of razors sank into his gut. His phone fell so hard onto his face he was dazed for a second, flattening back against the bed and blinking up at the ceiling. "Ow."  
  
    " _Sorry, Joker!_ "  
  
    Morgana didn't look appropriately sorry to him. Akira tucked his chin against his chest and frowned at him as Mona hopped off his stomach and curled up between his arms and his ribs. "It's fine," he said. It wasn't fine, but Mona was cute enough that he could forgive the demon claws. He dropped a heavy hand to Mona's fuzzy back and pet him idly.  
  
    " _Was that Abel_?" Mona asked. Akira rolled his head to the side to see him peeking back at him with one bright blue eye.  
  
    "Yeah."  
  
    His adorable kitty nose scrunched slightly. " _I knew it_!"  
  
    "Why?"  
  
    Mona sulked against him, flopping onto his side as he pushed his feet into Akira's ribs. " _You never read me the messages when it's him_."  
  
    Oh, god. Akira laughed so hard it nearly drifted into a witch cackle. Like hell he was going to read Abel's filthy messages to Morgana. They'd only just talked about pole dancing, and now he was Googling sacred whores. Akira slid his phone onto the shelf beside his glasses and dragged his fingernails along the scruff of Morgana's neck. "He values his privacy, that's all. And it's different. He's not a teammate like Ann and the others."  
  
    Morgana's ears flattened against his skull. It was too cute to resist. Akira dropped his hand and scratched beneath his chin until Mona was purring despite himself. " _You never let me talk to him_!"  
  
    "I didn't know that you wanted to. Or that you could," Akira pointed out. Morgana had been around Abel, but he had no idea if they'd be able to speak to each other. He frowned mildly and continued scratching gently at his face.  
  
    " _Of course I want to! He feels like me_." Morgana curled up into a ball beneath his arm, evidently appeased by Akira's offer of scritches.  
  
    Akira fell asleep wondering what it meant to feel like Morgana.  
  
    That sounded like something he should be worried about.  
  
    The next day dawned bright and way too early, but if nothing else, it ended up being a little more tolerable than its predecessor. As Akira had hoped, no one expected them to act like unpaid interns.  
  
    Tasked with saving seats for Ann and Ryuji, Akira sank down into an empty row of three. Convenient. The seats themselves were less so, and not only because they were way closer to the front of the stage than he would have liked. They weren't just bare metal chairs like they could have been, but the red cushions were thin and a bit stiff. A marginal improvement at best. Oh well. Beggars and choosers and all that.  
  
    Regardless of his opinion, Akira was well aware of the potential alternatives. He leaned back into his seat, his elbows resting on his spread knees, and he listened to the dull hum of voices around him. He wished he could muster half that much enthusiasm about sitting in a TV audience.  
  
    "Jeez, could the set be any more orange?"  
  
    Akira blinked slowly and tilted his head as someone hopped over the back of the empty chair beside him and sprawled out into it. "Wh-" His entire body went rigid and nearly collapsed backwards into the aisle. "Abel?!"  
  
    Abel was lounging beside him, both his arms draped across the backs of the chairs on either side of him, one leg outstretched and the other propped over his knee. They were covered in Shujin plaid. With an indolent little roll of his blue head, Abel regarded him with a cool smile, then immediately ruined it with a melodramatic waggle of his eyebrows. "That's me! Hey, I'm impressed you can still talk with your jaw on the floor."  
  
    What the fuck. For several seconds, Akira couldn't do anything but blink at him while his brain attempted to catch up with the situation. How was he here? Why? How had no one else noticed an extra student? Probably because he was in full uniform. He was wearing the exact same plaid pants as Akira, smart black loafers on his feet and the standard white summer polo making him look yet skinnier. And he wasn't wearing his headphones. He looked...kind of darling, actually, but Akira didn't have it in him to voice that out loud. Abel looked like a totally normal student, sitting there as if he belonged the entire time.  
  
    "What are you doing here?" he finally sputtered. "How have you not been caught?"  
  
    Abel wrinkled his nose, then laughed at him and dropped both his feet flat to the floor. "'cause I'm magic, duh."  
  
    Well, yes, duh. Of course he was. But Akira still didn't know the full extent of what that even meant. He could disappear and reappear at will, sure, but how was he going to get away with ingratiating himself into a mobful of students?  
  
    With magic, apparently. Abel tilted his head back over the seat, then flickered his eyes towards Akira's face as he dropped his voice. "What did you say your teacher's name was?"  
  
    "I didn't. But Kawakami. Why?"  
  
    Akira swung around in his seat and fell sharply still as he realized she was standing directly behind him, staring at Abel with a bewildered look on her face. Busted. They were so fucking busted.  
  
    "Who are you? Did you get separated from your class?"  
  
    Abel adopted an utterly wounded expression and spread a pale hand across his paler polo. "Uhm, Ms. Kawakami it's me." Just for effect, he fluttered his long, dark blue eyelashes at her. And to his complete fucking astonishment, she tilted her head, then relaxed.  
  
    "Oh, Abel... I'm so sorry. I can't believe I didn't recognize you." Seriously. Seriously?! Her shoulders dropped, her face falling as she took a breath and tucked an errant curl behind her ear. "I must be tired today. Make sure you two behave, okay?"  
  
    A twinge of sympathy struck his ribs before it was buried beneath an avalanche of complete disbelief. She just bought that. She knew what his name was. Had he just hypnotized her? Did she actually know him and Akira was secretly insane? Was this entire day a dream?  
  
    As Ms. Kawakami walked away, Akira slumped in his seat in a daze. Abel reached over and patted at his knee. "Relax. You look like you're about to pass out." He chuckled smoothly and let go of his knee, only to turn his hand over and press his knuckles to it instead. With his hand open, a bottle of cold water materialized across his palm, unopened and perfectly full. Akira hesitated before he took it slowly.  
  
    "Magic," he muttered. He shook his curly head and twisted the cap off, swallowing a good quarter of the bottle. "What did you do?"  
  
    Abel's thin shoulders bounced. "Dunno. I just decided I wanted her to think I belonged in her class. So she does. Don't worry, she won't remember me this time tomorrow. It'll be like I was never here."  
  
    "Hey, Abel!" Akira jerked his head over to see Ann already parking herself in the empty chair beside Abel, Ryuji close behind her and severely put out.  
  
    "There's only three! Move your ass!"  
  
    Ryuji planted his own ass on the empty sliver of chair beside her while Ann dug her elbow into his ribs and scowled. "I was sitting here first, you dick!"  
  
    "Oh my." Abel slid across his seat and glued himself right up against Akira's side. "We could all fit if I sit on Akira's lap."  
  
    Holy hell. Too much was happening for Akira to keep up. His face felt hot enough he wasn't sure if it was the awful stage lights making him sweat, or just Abel being so close to his face and staring at him with suggestion in his face and on his tongue. Finally, Abel let go of him with a silky laugh, and he patted the seam between his chair and the one Ann and Ryuji were still fighting over. "We can share. It's fine!"  
  
    "I knew there was a reason I liked you better." Ann perked up, laughing as she slid to the side and balanced across both chairs. She spoke as if she and Abel had been best friends since birth.  
  
    It must have been written across his face. Abel was watching him intently, and he laughed and bobbed his head over towards them. "...They won't remember either. Just so you know."  
  
    Akira had no idea how to respond beyond to nod. This was the most surreal experience of his life.  
  
    Of course, he wasn't permitted to think about it too hard. The din grew louder around them, swelling when the hosts came out and time to film ticked closer. He rubbed a thumb between his eyes and did his level best not to let the noise irritate him.  
  
    A couple of students sitting in the row in front of them were muttering to each other loudly enough he could hear. "Do you think they'll talk about the Phantom Thieves when Akechi-kun comes on?"  
  
    The mention jarred him to awareness even before Abel sat up and blinked. Then his face screwed up. "Phantom Thieves?" he mouthed back at him. "Is that, like, a new anime or something?"  
  
    He and Ann both stared at each other over the back of Abel's head, Ann as shocked as he was. Abel didn't know? Thankfully he was a little quicker to look back at him, and he lifted his arm and scratched oh so casually at his temple. "You...haven't heard?" Oh yes. His acting skills could rival Ann's. Mona even groaned at his feet from his schoolbag.  
  
    "Obviously not," Abel pointed out, his lips drawn into a curl of amusement. "Enlighten me?"  
  
    Right. Obviously. God damn, he was slow on the uptake today. Thankfully, he didn't have to try and spin some inept lie. Ann leaned closer to him, her glossy mouth crooked into a grin. "You don't watch the news much, do you, Abel?"  
  
    "Oh, what, like you guys do? You watch the news?" Abel snorted and leaned back, throwing his arms across the chairs again. Except he then bent his elbow and twirled one of his fingers around a lock of Akira's hair. "You got me. I don't watch the news. I just read article headlines and form a knee-jerk opinion, like any good nine- seventeen year old."  
  
    Akira smirked faintly. "Nice save," he whispered.  
  
    Abel tugged hard at the curl snagged around his finger. He had to bite down on the yelp of surprise that threatened to spill out of his mouth.  
  
    "But everyone at school has been talking about it!" She dug her pink phone out and poked at the screen a few times, then presented it to Abel, who bent over it curiously.  
  
    "Huh. I guess I'm out of the loop. Jeez, make me feel bad. No one ever tells me all the hot gossip." Akira followed the smooth motions of his finger as he pressed the tip against the screen and scrolled up, skimming through the article, his eyes jumping from line to line.  
  
    He really didn't know about the Phantom Thieves. There was no telltale pointedness in his expression, and he was going to the effort to read Ann's phone. His reaction was totally genuine.  
  
    But what about the Joker card still sitting in his pocket?  
  
    Did he really not know? It was too absurd to be a coincidence.  
  
    And yet.  
  
_You ought to know that one._  
  
_Jokers are wild._  
  
    Abel _had_ to know.  
  
    And he couldn't ask when one of the techs started counting down to start the filming. All the other voices died around him. Abel was right. That set was _really_ orange.  
  
    He paid only half a mind as the announcers launched into their spiel, introducing Akechi, but once he was sitting so comfortably before the cameras, Akira sat up a little straighter. Beside him, however, Abel slouched further, throwing his ankle over his knee again and cupping something in his palm. Okay, that was admittedly very distracting. Akira eased his head downward to see him clutching a black marker, and he was drawing on something red.  
  
    But again, his attention was torn back to Akechi as the hosts, predictably, asked him about Madarame and the Phantom Thieves. What else were they going to talk about?  
  
    Abel was still ignoring them happily while he scribbled, but as Akechi spoke again, his marker fell still.  
  
    "I may not seem like it, but I sometimes wish that Santa Claus actually existed." Akechi's smile was so placid and sugary, like room temperature honey. "Although if he did, I'd have to arrest him for breaking and entering."  
  
    The crowd around them laughed, raucously, and Abel sat back in his seat like he was going to be ill. That did almost make Akira laugh, and he shot him a questioning look.  
  
    "...That wasn't funny," Abel hissed beneath his breath. His expression wouldn't be out of place on someone who had just been stabbed rather than someone who just had to listen to an extremely corny Santa joke. "Why are they laughing?"  
  
    Akira shrugged and looked back at the stage. Then he paused and let his eyes slide back over to Abel. "You're much funnier."  
  
    Abel preened so hard he thought he was going to sprain something. It amused him all over again, and he had to fight to swallow his laugh.  
  
    The whole situation became rather less amusing when Akechi suggested trying them in a court of law.  
  
    He sympathized with Abel's immediate dislike, then, because he could feel it too, biting at his insides. Fuck him. What could they charge them with? They hadn't actually done anything wrong. There weren't any laws against changing someone's heart. Sure, 'it's not illegal' wasn't the most stalwart of moral defenses, but it was true they hadn't actually committed any arrestable offense. They weren't physically inside any of the places they 'broke into', nor had they hurt or killed anyone. There were the treasures, but they hadn't even been real.  
  
    Akechi didn't know what he was talking about, but it would be suicidal to even try and refute him.  
  
    So of course, when they decided to go ask the audience, the lady host headed straight for him. Honestly.  
  
    Beside him, Abel snickered and rolled his eyes. "Who else was she going to ask?" he murmured, going back to his drawing. He had a point. Who else _was_ she going to ask? He should have made Abel switch him seats.  
  
    "What do you think of the Phantom Thieves?" she asked, and she thrust the microphone into his face.  
  
    It was sorely tempting to say, 'why don't you go ask the Queen what she thinks of England', but he wasn't ready to go to jail quite yet.  
  
    Abel had stopped again, his marker still and his gaze trained on Akira's face. He could see the bright reds of his irises from the corner of his eyes. Akechi was watching as well, and Akira realized, seemingly for the first time, that his eyes were red too. He slid his glasses higher up onto his nose, his middle finger flush to the bridge as he slowly pushed them up the length of it. Then he smiled.  
  
    "They do more than the cops."  
  
    Yeah. That's right, fucker. He said it.  
  
    Again the audience laughed. It made him feel the tiniest bit smug.  
  
    Akechi seemed surprised that someone was so eager to contradict him right to his face, but he wasn't deterred. Akira wasn't sure if he was glad of that or not. At least Abel looked proud of him.  
  
    He wasn't prepared for Akechi to notice that as well. Assuming he did, of course, but why else would he drag Abel into the spotlight so abruptly? "What about your friend there, beside you?" Abel went rigidly still, only his eyes gliding upwards to pierce Akechi's face. They narrowed, then, so slight that only Akira was close enough to notice. He imagined that if he were in his cape, it would be flickering dangerously, the tail of an extremely irritated cat facing down an especially annoying mouse.  
  
    Akira came close to asking 'what about him?' before Akechi continued, motioning with one of his gloved hands. "If his heart were to suddenly change, wouldn't you think that the Phantom Thieves were responsible?"  
  
    It was a more interesting question than Akechi probably realized, but Akira recognized it for what it was intended to be. He met Abel's gaze, briefly, noting the way the corners of his eyes were crinkled in anger. They smoothed out only when Akira smiled at him, and Abel smiled back.  
  
    "You tell me. You seem pretty comfortable assuming how they operate."  
  
    It felt good being able to blindside Akechi like that, but he was far too quick to recover to enjoy it properly. Akechi seemed to like that Akira was so happy to call him out on his bullshit. What an odd guy.  
  
    As gracefully as he felt like he handled that, Akira was nevertheless relieved when the lady finally got out of his face, and they let Akechi talk more shit about the Phantom Thieves without any dissent. Still better than day one, all things considered. At least Akechi hadn't told anyone they had a slammin' bod.  
  
    When the taping finally ended a hundred fucking years later, Akira slouched against a nearby wall with Abel beside him, spinning the marker between his fingers the way Akira liked to do with his pens. "So."  
  
    Abel quirked an eyebrow. "So," he parroted back at him, stopping the marker and tossing it into the air. It disappeared with a soft pop.  
  
    "You don't like him," Akira said. Abel snorted at him hard and propped one of his elbows on Akira's shoulder. Truthfully, the level of Abel's animosity made him nervous. Did he know something sketchy about Prince Sherlock? Was he like a cat and could detect evil?  
  
    "He thinks he's funny," Abel finally responded, his voice hard as flint. "He isn't funny."  
  
    ...That was it?  
  
    "I'm so glad you like me."  
  
    Abel laughed and flung his arm around Akira's middle. "I like you _very_ much," he assured him. "Seriously, though, that corny fuck is as authentic as a CostCo Christmas tree." Something plastic slid into his pocket as Abel spoke, but before Akira could take it back out to see what it was, they were approached by who else but the devil himself? Well, maybe that was a little harsh. Akechi wasn't that bad.  
  
    Clearly, Abel disagreed. His arm dropped away from him, and he leaned back on the balls of his feet. "Oh. It's you."  
  
    "Am I interrupting?" The politeness in his voice sounded perfectly sincere.  
  
    Abel curled his lip. "No, by all means! You were awfully interested in the state of my heart, so now seems like a good opportunity for you to ask me directly. Didn't your mother ever teach you it's rude to talk about people like they aren't there?"  
  
    Before Akechi could formulate a response, Abel spun away from him and jabbed his sharp elbow into Akira's ribs. "Hey, is that the guy from yesterday?" He didn't know what else to do but follow the point of his finger to see the news anchor who plowed into his shoulder.  
  
    "Yeah. That's the one."  
  
    Abel abandoned him immediately, walking away and leaving Akira to stand there in the supremely awkward silence in his wake.  
  
    Thankfully, Akechi chose to fill it. "He doesn't care for me much, does he?" he commented, his tone mild.  
  
    Ace detective skills. No wonder he was on TV. Akira adjusted his glasses again and cleared his throat. "He didn't like your Santa joke."  
  
    To his shock, Akechi laughed pretty hard at that. He wasn't offended at all. "Ah! I see. To be fair, it wasn't a very good joke."  
  
    Akira could feel his own sour opinion softening just a little. Maybe he really wasn't that bad. He'd expected Akechi to take himself with deathly seriousness, but he was very much mistaken. He wasn't _funny_ , but he still had a sense of humor. Akira could roll with that. "Sorry about him. Did you need something?"  
  
    "I wanted to thank you-"  
  
    The floor beneath their feet reverberated as something heavy slammed into it. He and Akechi blinked at each other, then moved towards the rest of the crowd of gawking Shujin students as the news anchor from before flailed and thrashed on the ground in a rage. Cables were snaked around his ankles so tightly he couldn't even get his feet loose. The man was left to flop around with all the dignity of a beige fish.  
  
    The AD from yesterday was frantically trying to unbind him. Akira stood motionless until a slender arm curled around his neck. "Look's like someone's gettin' fired," Abel spoke in a stage whisper, his hip bumping against Akira's own.  
  
    He put his own arm around Abel's waist and simply watched the carnage unfold.  
  
    He was so, so glad Abel liked him.  
  
    Quite a bit, it would seem. On the walk home, he put both his hands into his pocket and was reminded of the gift Abel had left for him. He slid out another playing card, this time the 7 of Spades he'd initially drawn.  
  
    When he turned it over, his own face was smiling up at him.  
  
    Akira smiled back.  
  
    What a nerd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **chapter 4 bonus** :
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> Side note: for those of you who are curious, you can find the site Akira was reading [here](http://www.sacred-texts.com/oto/418/aetyr2.htm). Fans of the original Devil Survivor might find the second paragraph extremely interesting! 


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

 

 

    The subway turned sharply beneath him. Were it not for his tight grip on the handle overhead, Akira was sure he would have found himself a little too well-acquainted with the car's floor. Granted, he may have been a bit too eager to give himself credit; it was more likely that he was spared an undignified spill due to the number of bodies crammed into the car, packed so tightly he could feel someone else's elbow pressed against his back.  
  
    Way, way too close. God. It was claustrophobic enough already without people actually adhered to his body. The close quarters seemed more appropriate for a rock concert than a trip to school. An unhappy shiver stole up his back and through his shoulder. There were so many people suffocating him that he doubted he could fall even if he made the effort to.  
  
    The ride was unusually violent, too, as if the conditions weren't unpleasant enough on their own. The train took another turn, equally abrupt, and Akira found himself flung to the right until he reached up to grip the handle with both hands. Why was it so rough today? The entire train undulated through the tunnels so quickly it was like trying to win a bull riding competition from the back of a snake.  
  
    A brief stab of fear lanced through his heart.  
  
    Was it another mental shutdown? Had his luck with the subway officially reached its end? Was he going to end up as some byline in the news for reasons unrelated to phantoms or thievery?  
  
    When the train twisted again, his heart leaped yet higher up his throat, and a pair of warm hands slid around his hips. Akira's eyes snapped open.  
  
    "You okay?"  
  
    His heart somersaulted for an entirely new reason. Abel was standing right in front of him, staring at him, his head slightly tilted and a few strands of uneven bangs catching on his dark blue eyelashes. The temptation to surrender the car handle and brush Abel's hair back was monstrous, but another inelegant turn sent his friend stumbling into his chest. Those warm hands tightened on Akira's hips.  
  
    "Yeah. I'm okay."  
  
    Abel didn't seem nervous at all. He flicked his hair out of his face and smiled for him. It was soft. Subtle. The curve of a parenthesis rather than the impish, insolent shape of a curly brace. His headphones were gone, and Akira was reminded that Abel was exactly as tall as he was, down to the centimeter. It was easy to forget when those sharp points standing up over his head made him seem so much taller.  
  
    His blunt fingernails bit into the plastic beneath them. "Are you coming to school with me again?"  
  
    "Yeah. I hope you don't mind." His hands disappeared from Akira's sides as Abel righted himself and afforded him a better look at his Shujin polo. He regretted it was summer all the more. He suspected that Abel would look even better in their winter uniform, with its pressed blazer and surprisingly flattering turtleneck. Suspenders would look really cute on him.  
  
    All around them, the car swayed. Abel tilted forward on his long legs, and Akira spoke before he could re-establish control over his impulsive tongue. "You can hang onto me if you want. I don't mind."  
  
    Abel's smile grew wider. There was that catty grin he was so used to, blooming across his face and reaching his eyes. He didn't say anything, or offer any acknowledgement beyond sliding two of his fingers through the belt loops framing either side of Akira's hips. He was standing so close their noses were mere centimeters apart.  
  
    "Such a gentleman," Abel purred.  
  
    Akira's mouth felt much too wet. He swallowed the excess as Abel's eyes darted across his face, his curled fingers anchoring them together. He found himself jostled a great deal less, even with the car still shaking all around them.  
  
    A heavy bead of sweat rolled down his clavicle like a pearl. God, it was miserably fucking hot. The back of his neck prickled with so much heat they might as well have been commuting through the desert. The drop slid ever lower, down his chest where the polo hung limply from his skin, and yet further down to drip over the length of his abdomen.  
  
    Abel trapped it beneath his thumb. For a split second, molten heat burned just inside the tender dip along the inside of Akira's hipbone, his skin searing so brightly he wasn't sure if it was hot or devastatingly cold. He sucked his stomach in sharply. The blistering sensation faded into a more gentle chill that radiated beneath his skin, cooling him from his sweat-damp curls all the way down to the toes roasting in his wet socks.  
  
    Abel's thumb slid to the right and up, the pad of it skating along the rounded edge of bone beneath it. Up and down in a smooth glide that made Akira's knees buckle.  
  
    He tried to say his name, but his tongue was heavy and leaden inside his mouth. Instead he swallowed again and inhaled through his nose as Abel's other thumb moved to do the same to the opposite side.  
  
    This must have been how Galatea felt. Abel touched his bare skin with all the reverence of an artist, his thumbs tracing the shape of him like he was the most sublime creature to have ever walked the earth. They crested all the way up to the sharp tips of each hip, then slid back down, following both lines of the v that disappeared beneath the hem of his school slacks.  
  
    His breath stuttered inside him. He wanted to beg him to push past the waistband, but he was as silent as his body was still, pliant and malleable like clay beneath Abel's hands.  
  
    As his thumbs blazed another trail upwards, Akira opened his eyes to see that Abel's were shut. The pretty fan of his lashes looked all the darker against his pale skin, burning blue beneath the harsh lights overhead. If he closed the distance between them, tilted his head just a little, he would feel Abel's lips against his mouth.  
  
    Akira jerked awake to the smell of rain thick in the air.  
  
    His entire body pulsed with more than just heat, and he rolled his head to the side with a groan that bridged the entire gulf between exhausted and bereft. It was still dark as hell out. The unsteady beat of raindrops bouncing off the street alerted him that the storm wasn't quite over, but was well on its way to winding down. Just as well. His skin and hair were so slick he thought the rain might have blown in through his open windows, but no -- it was just sweat.  
  
    Gross. He made a face and tilted his head back against his pillow, lifting a heavy arm and dropping it over his eyes that were still thick with the rheum of sleep. Akira was marginally surprised he could even move. His entire body felt tied down with bricks.  
  
    Well. All of him except his erection, which was straining merrily towards the ceiling. It was starting to chafe against the front of his pajama pants.  
  
    The dream flashed straight to the forefront of his mind, and another pang of agonizing want burned a path through each of his limbs. Fuck.  
  
    He sucked a short breath between his teeth and slid a hand down to his lap, digging the heel of his palm between his legs to assuage the pressure there. God, it was unbearable, on just the wrong side of painful that he knew he wouldn't be rolling over to sleep it off. He slid his arm down with another sleepy groan of protest and very slowly eased himself up, his other hand coming up to rub at his eyes.  
  
    Then it occurred to him that his bed was empty, and he sat there and blinked. "Mona?" There was a conspicuous lack of fur at his side, or above his head. Akira passed his hand over the warm spot lingering in the empty space beside him. More hesitantly, Akira raised his voice. "...Morgana?"  
  
    Silence greeted him. There was nothing and no one. Just him and his attic, with only a painful boner for company and a rapidly growing wet spot seeping through the front of his pajamas.  
  
    Akira slammed down onto the bed so hard he almost bounced. Both his hands worked to yank the elastic band of his pants down around his thighs, his cock springing out from beneath it and begging for attention.  
  
    He hadn't masturbated in a bed since fucking April. There was very little time to waste. Akira thrust a hand beneath the blanket draped over his middle and took his erection into it, squeezing hard.  
  
    Satisfaction rocketed up the length of his spine. The near uncomfortable buzz died down the instant his palm curled around it, replaced with a flood of pleasure. But as much as he wanted to draw it out and savor the sensation of getting to be on his back on a decently comfortable bed for once, his ears having to stay pricked for the sound of Leblanc's door was a bit of a mood killer. It was going to have to be one of his more utilitarian tug sessions if he didn't want to risk a surprise return from his usual bed partner.  
  
    Nothing for it. Akira chewed at his lip and squeezed almost savagely tight, his fist following the entire length of his cock until his stomach quivered.  
  
    He could still feel the phantom weight of fingers on his hips. It was the most electric touch he had ever experienced, and it was nothing but a fucking dream. On one hand, he was almost ashamed that he was this hard over a dream in which zero people were naked for any length of time. On the other hand, who cared?  
  
    His breath came in short, thin bursts as he climbed the heights of ecstasy as well as he could all alone. It was really nice to be afforded the chance to jerk off in peace, but he would prefer someone else's hand on him.  
  
    Oh, who the fuck was he kidding? He would prefer Abel's hands.  
  
    They were soft and so blazingly warm it left an ache in his palm each time Abel held onto him. His fingertips left trails of fireworks bursting in their wake, burning up the air inside him and leaving him dizzy and craving more.  
  
    He wanted to go back. He'd suffer the heat stroke and the strangers and being regarded as little better than a horny teenaged sardine if it meant he could let Abel try to make him come just from molesting his hips.  
  
    Akira tried it for himself. His other hand slid down his naked stomach and fell to his hip, curling into a loose fist. Slowly, mimicking the motions of Abel's dreamy doppelganger, he mapped out the curve of his bone and down into the dip of his Adonis belt.  
  
    It wasn't the same. But it was still nice.  
  
    He came almost before he was ready. His fingers spasmed and scraped at his hip, then jerked upward to shove his shirt up out the way just before his orgasm burst from him in a wave of ecstasy that temporarily stole his vision. He clung to his shirt for a minute and slumped flat over the mattress, his breaths coming slower and smoother.  
  
    The fingers still loose around his cock twitched, and he tightened them and tugged upward until the last of his release was coaxed out of him, dappling beneath his navel.  
  
    How fucking tragic was his life that he was that excited to get off in a bed?  
  
    Akira sat up again, his forearm still holding his shirt up off him to spare it the mess currently spilled across his chest. He didn't think that through very well. Imagine that. Mona was still gone, though, and Leblanc was eerily quiet with the rain stopped. It meant he could at least slip down into the bathroom to clean himself up without the indignity of his cat seeing him with his pants stretched out around his thighs and come rapidly drying on his torso, so he'd take it.  
  
    Once he was clean and suitably decent, Akira yanked his pajama bottoms back up and smoothed his shirt out. He wondered how Abel would feel if he knew he'd been masturbated to, but he could only imagine the answer to be amused, flattered, and thoroughly unsurprised, all at the same time. It'd probably happened before, after all.  
  
    He stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him. There was still no sign of Morgana whatsoever.  
  
    It made him nervous. Did Morgana frequently leave? This was definitely not the first time he'd ever awoken with a boner, but it was the first time he'd done so and there was no sleeping cat around to make him feel shame over it.  
  
    There was no way he'd be falling asleep not knowing where he was. Akira hesitated a brief moment, then slipped through the front door and out onto the street. Or, Leblanc's entryway, rather. He made it one entire step before he fell still, jerking his head as he heard a peal of familiar laughter ringing through the quiet street. Abel?  
  
" _That's amazing!_ "  
  
    And Morgana, too. Akira blinked and wondered quite sincerely if he was still dreaming. He inched past the concrete barring him from sight and saw Abel sitting perched on the partition outside the diner beside them, one of the white flags draped across his back. Morgana was sitting beside him, his tail straight up and flickering with interest.  
  
    "You think so?" Abel asked. He swung his head down to where Morgana was, grinning with all his white teeth, right in Akira's direction. He ducked back around the side and put a hand down to his mouth.  
  
    What were they doing? Just...talking? It had to be one or two in the morning. Abel didn't even look drowsy.  
  
    He found himself disinclined to interrupt them. The last time Akira spoke to Morgana about his resident Bible-enthusiast, he'd implied they'd never spoken. When had that changed? Tonight?  
  
    "But, yeah." Abel again. Akira slid down the wall with his back pressed to it and folded his forearms over his knees. "That's my story. Why? Did you think I was from somewhere specific?"  
  
    " _Yeah! I thought that maybe you were from the Metaverse._ "  
  
    "Metaverse?" Though Akira couldn't see him, he could picture the look on his face perfectly. He had no doubt cocked his head and scrunched one side of his face like a confused puppy. "What's that?"  
  
    Morgana made a little noise of feline shock. " _You don't know? But you can hear me_!"  
  
    "I don't. Sorry." Abel chuckled, the sound smooth and with a familiar heat that pooled inside his stomach. If he got hard all over again, he was going to be so annoyed. Feeling impulsive, Akira chanced another glance around the corner of the wall to see Abel's fingernails coursing along the back of Mona's fuzzy black head. "I hate to disappoint a face like that. Is that where you're from, then? The Metaverse?"  
  
" _That's right. It's where I was born. It's like a...subreality of this one, you could say. A cognitive world, where people's perspectives are made manifest._ "  
  
    Abel wrinkled his nose and leaned further back, the flag catching on the tips of his headphones. He didn't stop scratching Mona behind the ears. "If it's a subreality of this one, then that would make sense why I've never seen it. It's likely exclusive to your universe. Well...not _exclusive_. Maybe exclusive to your 'cluster' of universes, I guess."  
  
    It was nice to have that confirmed, at least, even if it brought up exactly eight million questions within him.  
  
" _What brought you to this one, then_?"  
  
    Yes! Akira could kiss Mona on his little kitty face. It's what he'd been dying to know himself. Abel couldn't make his fondness for him more obvious if he paid a tow truck to come dump rose petals on him in the middle of the station square, but Akira still didn't know a damn thing about him that wasn't how much he liked Abel's dorky personality or his sense of fashion. He knew his name was Abel, but not if it was a real name. He knew he liked music, but not even which kinds he actually liked.  
  
    All he knew were surface things that any dickhead off the street could divine, and it was intimidating as hell.  
  
    A noise from Abel jarred him from his own head. "Ah. Right. That is a pretty relevant question, isn't it? To tell you the truth, I sort of...lost mine."  
  
    Mona's head tilted, which he caught just before he dove back down to his hiding spot. " _Lost...? Your what_?"  
  
    Abel cleared his throat. "My universe. Aha. It's kind of a long story."  
  
    His heart panged low in his gut. Lost his universe? Part of him was already doing the mental legwork to figure out how one lost an entire universe, but the rest of him did little more than simmer in a dull, throbbing ache. Abel was here wandering around in this world he didn't know because his own was gone. He really was just like all his other confidants: robbed of his place to belong.  
  
" _Oh... I'm sorry, Abel_."  
  
    "Nah, don't be. It's my own dumb ass fault." Abel laughed, and he could hear the indignant squawk Morgana made when he ruffled his head a little too hard.  
  
    Fuck. What was he doing? Why was he eavesdropping? They were obviously trying to commiserate. If Abel didn't want him to know any of that, then what right did he have to pry it out of him?  
  
    Guilt twisted his insides. As quietly as he could, Akira climbed to his feet and let himself into Leblanc, closing the door like he was trying to disarm a bomb. Honestly. First he was getting off to dirty dreams of him, now he was going to invite himself into his private conversations? Why did anyone like him at all, least of all Abel?  
  
    He collapsed into his bed and buried his face in his pillow. Abel... Maybe there was more to the Babalon card than he'd been willing to entertain. He had an entire life Akira had never been privy to. Of course he did. It wasn't like Akira had ever really asked. He'd wondered, certainly, but the only questions he was willing to put forth were oblique at best. If Abel really did want to date him, then could he be upset if Akira wanted to understand him better first?  
  
    He was so deep in his own mire of thoughts he didn't notice Morgana's weight on the bed until a cold cat nose pressed up against his cheek. His entire body convulsed in shock, and he flipped onto his side. " _You're awake_!"  
  
    "Er, yeah." And having a stroke too, now, thanks. Akira sighed and rubbed the inside corners of his eyes. "Woke up from a dream. Are you okay?"  
  
" _Yeah, I'm fine_." He curled up in the spot near his pillow and then went so quiet, Akira could only assume that he wasn't being invited to ask what he'd been up to. He debated with himself for several moments before he gave up. But before he lay back down, he paused. A playing card was sticking up from Morgana's collar, one corner wedged beneath it.  
  
    Akira plucked it out. It was an Ace of Hearts.  
  
    Gently, he turned it over in his palm to see a big rose drawn in marker.  
  
_Go to bed ♥_  
_xoxo_  
  
    An almost disbelieving laugh erupted from him as he sank onto his back and stared at the card.  
  
    He should have guessed. Abel knew he was there the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **chapter 5 bonus** :
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> **side note** : This will be my last update for awhile. I'll be taking my certification exam soon, and I'll be studying for that and taking a short break. Thank you so much for your patience! 


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

 

 

    Despite Abel having made it clear he wasn't at all fussed about Akira's eavesdropping, he was determined to apologize to him nevertheless. Abel was his friend, and as eager as he was to learn about him, his life wasn't any of Akira's business until Abel decided to make it so. Unfortunately, he was also determined to deliver such an apology directly to Abel's face, and he was presented with zero opportunity to do that for two full weeks.  
  
    After Madarame's Palace crumbled, things had settled down to the point Akira felt like he had a normal life again. Sure, they'd discussed looking for a new target, but without any other Palaces to infiltrate, he didn't feel like a Phantom Thief anymore -- just some upstart little shit playing dressup.  
  
    But the instant Makoto went and got herself fucking kidnapped by a drug dealing gangbanger, life as he knew it was plunged into chaos yet again. There wasn't an explicit word for being blackmailed by a sextortionist mobster after rescuing a girl who was already blackmailing you first, but he felt very strongly that there should be. Maybe he could coin one himself. He could call it getting Akira'd.  
  
    He was dying to see Abel and offer his apologies, but literally every day he suggested not going to Kaneshiro's palace, his friends harangued the absolute hell out of him. Yes, he was aware of the deadline. Yes, he knew Kaneshiro might change his mind before said deadline even came to pass. Yes, he was aware that Kaneshiro took it upon himself to e-mail Makoto every single day they couldn't cough up the three million yen they "owed" him so fine, fuck it, sure, we'll go to the goddamned palace if it means I can stop hearing about it every three hours.  
  
    Akira did not say that to anyone. But he thought about it a lot.  
  
    Still, even without the nagging, Akira couldn't bring himself to stay away. Makoto had made a spectacularly horrible first impression, what with the stalking and the blackmailing, but he really did understand her position and how much it sucked for her to withstand that kind of pressure from their principal who looked like he'd be more at home as a Sonic the Hedgehog villain than as anyone who should ever be in charge of children. Akira would clear that damn palace or kill himself trying before he let Kaneshiro pimp her out, or anyone else ever again.  
  
    But damn it, he was tired. They were so close to the end, and it was exhausting. He wasn't used to dealing with enemies who had no weaknesses at all. It was total bullshit, but it was also bullshit that wiped him out so hard he passed out almost the split second he was horizontal.  
  
    Circumstances being what they were, he had no time to see Abel. And since he was so insistent upon his in-person apology, it meant he couldn't even text him either. It felt too awkward to just speak like normal without acknowledging what had happened that night, so he was left to suffer without Abel's stupid dick jokes or the doodles he'd send, or cat memes, or his adorable, dorky kaomoji, or anything from his favorite cape-wearer at all.  
  
    Akira missed him.  
  
    The evening they finally discovered the route to Kaneshiro's treasure, Akira collapsed into bed, his entire body stiff and sore. Those shadows hit like a damn mac truck. Something about their heists left him utterly drained, too, like he could still feel the depletion of his SP despite not actually having any in the real world. Talk about bizarre.  
  
    He'd been still for nearly an entire hour when his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he debated with himself for several minutes to determine whether or not he was willing to move his arm enough to see who it was.  
  
    A little grudgingly, he slid his hand into his pocket to unearth it and unlock the screen, and his exhaustion was briefly chased away by the thud of his heart crashing against his ribs.  
  
_you doing ok over there, hooligan? i havent heard from you in awhile_  
  
    Apparently, Abel missed him too. Another surge of guilt tore through his insides. He forced himself up to sit, a short wince tightening his face.  
  
_I'm so sorry I went MIA. I didn't mean to disappear like that. A lot has happened._  
  
    Abel kept him waiting for less than a minute, prompt as ever, like he was eager to hear from him. It always made his stomach do weird things. _nah you dont have to apologize to me. i'm glad you're not dead though!_  
  
    Akira bit back a small smile. God, he wanted to see him so bad. He couldn't fathom how Abel must have felt. He was here in an entirely foreign universe. Even if Abel could find doppelgangers of the people he knew, they wouldn't have the faintest idea who Abel was, or they'd think he was someone else if he had a doppelganger of his own. The possibility that Akira was the only person here Abel had any connection with was a very real one, and he suddenly felt like the world's most selfish dickhead. He'd just abandoned him for two weeks straight.  
  
    Gritting his teeth, Akira forced himself off the bed and jammed his feet into his shoes. As expected, Morgana's head popped up from where he was still curled up at the foot of the bed. " _H- Hey! It's late! You should sleep_."  
  
    "You always say that," he muttered. "I'm going out."  
  
    " _Joker, you can't!_ "  
  
    "I _absolutely_ can," he snapped, grabbing his bag and throwing the strap over his shoulder. He was still in his pajamas, but there was not a single microscope on earth that could capture the minuscule amount of fucks he had to give. "I'm tired of wasting my whole day playing Therapy Roulette with some asshole gangbanger. I want to go out. I'll see you later."  
  
    Every step he took down the stairs was another stab of pain shooting up the lengths of his calves, another reminder of how screamingly close he was to the very edges of his own endurance, but Akira meant each and every word of what he'd said. Everyone else he knew wanted something from him. Moral support. A willing ear. A hundred thousand yen for some bullshit salt sculpture. A metaphorical hitman for particularly external problems, in the case of his poor teacher. When was he going to be allowed to want something from someone else? Especially someone who seemed so willing to give it?  
  
    Akira collapsed into an empty seat on the subway, his legs already shaking, and he texted Abel again.  
  
_Will you meet me in the diner in Shibuya?_  
  
    Abel was on it.  
  
_i'm already there, beautiful._  
  
    As it turned out, Abel was not already there, but his words still made Akira smile. He was seated at his favorite corner booth, and he ordered himself a coffee already knowing that Abel wouldn't be drinking anything when he did arrive.  
  
    Which he did only a few minutes later, slipping into the booth across from Akira and beaming at him. "Hey!" God, the way Abel smiled at him lit up his entire face. He looked as if he was never happier than when he got a good eyeful of Akira. It made him want to do stupid, stupid things.  
  
    "I missed you," he blurted.  
  
    Like that, actually. Well done. Akira groaned internally and sank in his seat, his eyes darting downward to where his coffee was still steaming lightly.  
  
    Abel laughed and popped his cheek into the palm of his own hand. "I missed you too. Are you okay?" The tone he used brought Akira's eyes swiveling back up to see that Abel was frowning gently.  
  
    "Yeah, why?" Because he looked like shit, probably. He was in pajamas, for god's sake. ...Maybe he did give a few fucks. He should have changed before he left.  
  
    For a few seconds, Abel was quiet. Then he cocked his head and reached across the table to snag an errant curl draped against the bridge of his nose. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you sort of look like you're fresh out of our friendly neighborhood Fight Club. You've got some wicked eye bruises."  
  
    "Oh." A slow, extremely deep frown entrenched itself across Akira's face. "I think that does hurt my feelings, actually."  
  
    Abel tittered into his hand and offered him another gorgeously sunny smile. "I'm sorry about your feelings. Do you want me to kiss them?" he asked, his voice so earnest that Akira could already feel enough heat radiating up his neck to dread the blush that would soon follow. "But really, though, they look good. The bruises, I mean. Very debonair. They make you look like a hoodlum. Or bad to the bone, one might say."  
  
    Akira snorted and took a short sip of his coffee. "So long as you like them." Carefully, he set the cup back down on its saucer and stole another glance up at Abel's face. He was still watching him intently, his hands folded loosely atop the gleaming surface of the table. "I'm really sorry about the other night. I didn't mean to eavesdrop on you and Mona."  
  
    "Mona?" Abel's head cocked.  
  
    "...Morgana."  
  
    Right. It defeated the purpose of code names if he kept using them outside the Metaverse too. Abel didn't press, though. He merely offered him another of his trademark catty smiles and shook his head.  
  
    "It's fine! I'm not upset. ...Is that why I didn't hear from you? Has it been bothering you for that long?"  
  
    Fuck, how did he know?! Feeling like a colossal moron, Akira paused again before he took another swallow of coffee. "Yeah. Sorry. I'm an idiot."  
  
    "You are not." Abel tossed his hair again and folded his arms, leaning further onto the table. "You are so funny. Relax. You'd know if I was mad at you, trust me."  
  
    That was an interesting thing to say. Interesting and ever so slightly terrifying coming from him, but truth be told, Akira found it impossible to even imagine Abel being legitimately angry at him. Or anything, really. Being angry required taking something seriously first.  
  
    Akira sank back into the booth and frowned a little softer than before. He had no idea what he was doing. He had no desire to just start lobbing questions at him, but he also didn't have the slightest clue how to broach it delicately.  
  
    "Akira."  
  
    Startled, he jerked his head and peered back up at Abel who was watching him quietly. Then he smiled, pushing his arms up a little higher. "I know you never got to have that question-answer session you wanted. If you have something to ask me, I'd be happy to answer. Within reason."  
  
    An intense relief gripped him as Abel did the hard part for him, but the little disclaimer he tacked at the end made it harder. "I don't know what's within reason," he admitted. "I do have things I want to ask, but I don't know how to...'keep it light', like you asked."  
  
    "Ah." Abel nodded for him. He reached over and plucked a napkin up from the stack to smooth out in front of him. "Then I'll tell you what. You ask whatever tickles your fancy, and I'll answer them or tell you to pass. Is that fair?"  
  
    Akira didn't answer right away. It sounded fair, but it also didn't do much to abate his nerves about potentially overstepping boundaries. Abel hadn't ever actually laid any for him to know where they even were. It was like trying to navigate a minefield, but the other person only got to determine where a mine was when he was already stepping on it.  
  
    Evidently, that much was visible on his face, because Abel laughed softly and slid his arm across to squeeze Akira's hand. "Listen. I'm sure it's infuriating trying to talk to me, but I'm really not trying to be a dick. I can tell you're carrying the damage of about thirty different people on those broad, sexy shoulders of yours. I'm not interested in adding to that weight. You feel me? You have enough problems without listening to all of mine."  
  
    "Oh." Was it that obvious? Or could Abel read his mind? Akira truly couldn't begin to guess the extent of all his abilities, but there Abel was, giving him the prime opportunity to ask. Akira inclined his head slowly. "Alright, then. I accept."  
  
    "Perfect." Abel smiled and propped his hilariously huge box of crayons onto the table. "Then fire away, delinquent. I promise I won't bite you."  
  
    Right. Of course not. Akira managed a faint smile and watched Abel begin to draw while he patiently awaited his interrogation. What to even start with first? He wanted to know so many things! After some deliberation, an especially pressing one rose to the forefront of his mind. Akira stiffened, sitting back and lifting his eyes away from Abel's pale hands. "Can I ask about what happened at the TV station?"  
  
    Surprise alit over Abel's face. "What do you mean?"  
  
    Stupid question. A lot happened at the TV station. Akira chewed roughly at his lip and forced them apart again to take another sip of his coffee. It was warm and soothed his ravaged nerves. "When you...charmed everyone, I guess. You were right, that they forgot you, but..."  
  
    But was their entire relationship fabricated? Was Abel just making Akira think that he knew him?  
  
    Think that he liked him?  
  
    He could see Abel working the connection out, because the second it made impact, he blanched and dropped his crayon. "Oh, Jesus. I didn't even think of it like that. No, I swear, it's not like that." He held up both his empty palms as if in surrender. "Like -- okay. Tell me how we first met," Abel demanded.  
  
    Akira blinked at him in surprise. "You showed me a magic trick in front of Babel Records and distracted me for like a week trying to think up ways to impress you."  
  
    The relief was first to slide across his face, but it was shortly followed by a laugh, and Abel bobbed his head. "Exactly. I can't manufacture fake memories. If you'd asked your friends at the time how they met me, or, well, anyone there, really, the effect would have been broken immediately. They'd have realized they didn't know how they met me, since they never did. I promise you this is genuine. I would never, ever manipulate you into liking me."  
  
    "No?" Akira smiled slightly as Abel wrinkled his nose.  
  
    "Of course not! I prefer to charm people purely by my own merits, thanks very much. I have way too much self-esteem to have to trick people into thinking we're friends. I'm fucking rad. Frankly, you should be so lucky to get to hang out with me."  
  
    Akira laughed so hard he snorted and hid it behind a hand. "I believe you." And it did make him feel better. Like a tiny portion of the weight Abel had described had siphoned off him. "What all can you do, if you don't mind my asking? It seems like you can do everything." Teleport. Summon things. Charm people.  
  
    Abel hesitated a moment, going back to his coloring. It looked like he was doodling another cat, but this one was purple. "To tell you the truth, I don't really know? That sounds like a copout, but I couldn't even begin to give you a comprehensive list. I just sort of figure out my limits as I come to them. So far as I can tell, there...aren't a lot of them. Limits."  
  
    Oh wow. Just hearing him verbalize that made his stomach drop in a weirdly pleasant kind of way. How must that feel, to know that you could do almost anything? "How?" he asked, dragging out the syllable as if he couldn't decide whether or not he was willing to commit to asking it. "How can you do all these things? I know that it's magic, but what does it come from?"  
  
    "Ah. Thought you'd never ask." Abel laughed and flicked one hand simply. "It's because I'm the King of Bel."  
  
    The answer was so straight-forward it surprised him. He wasn't sure why, it wasn't like Abel was going to present it like a Sphinx riddle or some shit. "Bel? Where is that?"  
  
    Abel's purple crayon went still again, and he cocked his head. "Oh, Bel isn't a place. It's a title." He spoke as if that should make perfect sense, but all it did was serve to confuse Akira all the more. King was already a title. What was Bel, then?  
  
    It occurred to him that he didn't want to spend his opportunity asking after Type A details when he had more important, broader questions to ask, so he decided to accept the answer for what it was and press on. "Is that something you're up to talking about? What that means?"  
  
    The silence Abel lapsed into spoke volumes. He dragged long, slow strokes of purple while he thought about it. "Not yet. I promise I'll tell you, but it's a long, complicated story and you look like you're about to fall asleep in your coffee."  
  
    "Do not," Akira argued. The only response he earned himself was a short laugh as Abel shook his head.  
  
    "Whatever you say, princess. At any rate, I'll take a rain check on that one."  
  
    Though he'd expected as much, disappointment still pierced him. Abel was no doubt carrying around as much pain as all his other confidants, if not more since he'd 'lost' an entire universe. Which could mean anything. It could be destroyed. He could have lost anyone he ever knew or loved.  
  
    No one should have to shoulder that kind of pain all alone, but Akira couldn't help him if Abel refused to surrender any of it. He swallowed it as best he could and swirled the mug clutched in his hands. "...When is your birthday?"  
  
    "What?"  
  
    Abel sounded so shocked by that that for a fleeting moment, Akira was terrified he'd only thought he asked for his birthday and had actually asked for his dick size or something. "Your...birthday?"  
  
    His red eyes disappeared several times while he blinked. Then he made a dismissive little noise and flung his crayon away to grab a yellow one. "I don't remember," he said. "Some time in August, I think. I'm a Virgo, if that's why you're worried. You want to make sure our stars align. I get you, I get you."  
  
    What?! Was he being serious? Akira stared at him, equal parts baffled and a little irritated. He understood wanting to pass on what the hell being King of Bel meant, but his own birthday? "Abel..."  
  
    He did relent, finally, at the sound of Akira's voice, and he pursed his lips into a sharp frown. "Don't worry about it. No one has ever given a shit about my birthday. I don't give a shit about my birthday. I don't remember. Really."  
  
    Akira knew full well he was lying through his perfect white teeth. He'd had to calculate his age when Akira asked him that first time. He'd told him what his birth card was too, and Akira was kicking himself for not being able to remember what it was. It was something of hearts. Ace? Eight? Regardless, Abel certainly hadn't forgotten. Why hide something so inconsequential?  
  
    He continued to frown at him, but knowing he had agreed to allow Abel to punt on whatever subject he wished soon prodded him to continue. He sighed and went back to watching him color bright golden eyes on his cat. Three of them, interestingly. "Is Abel your real name?"  
  
    A low, smooth chuckle slid from Abel's throat. "That's quite a question. Abel is my 'real' name actually, but I'm not pedantic enough that I'm going to pretend like I don't know what you mean. My legal name is Kazuya. Minegishi Kazuya."  
  
    "It's cute," he said before he could stop himself. Kazuya was a really nice name. It suited him a lot, even if Abel seemed equally fitting for this gorgeous dork of a king.  
  
    "Do you think so?" Abel grinned for him again.  
  
    "Yeah. I like it." The expression on Abel's face fascinated him. He looked...thoughtful. His mouth was set in a foxy little curl, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He wasn't entirely sure how to decipher it, save that Abel wasn't upset. More uncertain about something.  
  
    "That's good. That you like it. Any other questions for me? I can't give you the answer to life, but I'll sure try."  
  
    Akira laughed. "Nothing as deep as all that. What kind of music do you like?"  
  
    Ah. That got his attention. Abel's eyes lit up like a cat with two laser pointers. Which was extra fitting, given. "Oh, Akira. You can't ask me that, because I will keep you here literally all night long talking your ear off." As he spoke, Abel yanked the red cord attached to the MP3 player inside his shirt, and he unplugged it and clutched in his hand. Akira watched, utterly mystified as he duplicated it right before his eyes and slid the copy over the table. "Here you go. To listen to at your leisure. You will find that I have absolutely unparalleled taste in music. In all things, actually. Clothes, movies, boys. Take your pick."  
  
    God help him. Akira needed to learn to stop drinking things when Abel was talking if he didn't want most of it to end up in his nasal cavity. "Thank you. I'll listen." He wasn't sure he could respond to the rest of that with any amount of dignity, so Akira pretended not to have heard it. He lifted the MP3 player off the table and looked it over, consumed with curiosity already. "Will you go to Dome Town with me?"  
  
    It was the second time that evening he had effectively stunned Abel into silence. "What?"  
  
    "Dome Town. With me."  
  
    Abel stared at him some more. "...Okay. Sure. Yeah. I will." This time the smile he wore wasn't sharp at all. It was...dare he say shy? He couldn't help but be delighted that he'd made Abel look that way at all. "Just let me know when, and I'm there."  
  
    He went back to his cat doodle, but Akira could tell he was still reeling. Honestly, he sort of was too. Akira most certainly hadn't come here with the intention of asking Abel out on a date. It felt like a natural progression, though. Abel had soothed his fears about the nature of their relationship, and he'd promised to open up soon, even if he was being weirdly cagey about a birthday of all things. Besides, Kaneshiro would be going down soon, and Akira would be allowed a few brief weeks to have a social life again. He'd like the assurance that he could spend them with Abel.  
  
    Both of them were silent for awhile, Akira finishing his coffee and Abel finishing his napkin art before Abel spoke again. "Did you have any more questions for me?"  
  
    "Plenty," Akira agreed. "But I'll save them. Got to keep the mystery alive, right?"  
  
    Abel laughed so warmly he could feel the heat pooling in his stomach. "You're absolutely right. Alright. Let's get out of here, you really do look exhausted." It was true enough, to Akira's consternation. He stood and wobbled on his weak, aching legs, but he righted himself quickly and followed Abel out and down the stairs. Or he thought he did. In a short moment of blinding fear, he felt his center of gravity completely vanish, and for a moment, there was nothing at all beneath him. Then there were arms against him, a warm body at his side and cool night air on his face. Akira took a sharp breath.  
  
    "Jesus Christ, are you okay?" Abel was holding him tightly, and he was...floating. He was floating, yes. Akira confirmed with a short glance down to see neither of their feet were touching concrete. Well, of course his weren't, Abel had lifted him like a blushing bride and held him like he weighed nothing.  
  
    "I'm fine." He was fine, but only because Abel had apparently rescued him from a concussion and a nasty fall down the stairs. "...You were right. I should be in bed. I'll go home." And deliver the second well-deserved apology of the evening. Morgana was right too; he should have stayed in bed.  
  
    "Yeah, and fall into traffic? I don't think so." Abel scoffed loudly and adjusted him in his arms. "Do me a favor and think of home."  
  
    Oh god. "No, wait-"  
  
    Too late. The bustling street around them spun away from him, and in its place, the familiar wood of Leblanc sprang into existence, unfurling into the shape of his attic bedroom. If he wasn't dizzy a moment ago, he was now. Akira clutched harder at Abel's shoulders and tried not to be sick on him. "Oh, wow."  
  
    "Heheh, sorry about that. I know it's rough for a virgin." Abel winked and eased him down on his bed. "Hey, Morgana."  
  
    " _Abel!_ "  
  
    He was ludicrously happy to be lying flat on his back again. Akira blinked heavily and tilted his head, peering up at Abel when he felt the boy's fingers course through his mussed curls. "Thank you. Sorry you had to see this."  
  
    "What? Why?"  
  
    Akira crinkled his nose. "It's an attic. Not exactly fit for a king."  
  
    "Pfft." Abel smiled as he slid down the length of Akira's body and plucked his shoes off. "Somehow, I'm surviving. You need to sleep."  
  
    "Yeah. I do," he conceded. Tomorrow was going to be interesting, to say the least. "Thanks for hanging out with me tonight."  
  
    "Please! You say that like it's not a privilege for me." Abel popped back over his face and grinned as he tugged Akira's blanket over him and smoothed it out. "That's you all tucked in. You should have told me you were dying, I would have just come to hang out with you here instead. Tell me next time. I'll come nursemaid you proper, in a cute little nurse hat and everything."  
  
    Oh god. That was a visual he didn't need while Abel was still inside his room. "A dress too?" Idiot.  
  
    Abel laughed sweetly. "A dress too. I don't do anything half-way. Seriously, go to sleep, delinquent. I'll still be around when you wake up. Promise." Just when Akira thought he was going to wink away, as Abel did, he was shocked as hell to feel knees sink down over both sides of his waist. Abel sank down and smacked a warm, thorough kiss right between his eyes.  
  
    Then he disappeared.  
  
    As Abel did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **chapter 6 bonus** :
> 
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> I completed my certification! Thank you all so much for your well wishes! ♥ 


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

 

 

    Word of Kaneshiro's arrest had scarcely hit the news when Akira formally asked Abel out to Dome Town. It didn't matter that Akechi's pretty face was plastered up and down every screen accusing them of fabricating crimes via brainwashing. It didn't matter that the Phan-Site still only had them polling at a paltry 35%, even after putting away a dangerous criminal the police couldn't touch. None of it mattered at all. Akira knew they were responsible for putting Kaneshiro away, and he had asked a beautiful king out on a proper date, and he was goddamned invincible.  
  
    They had agreed to meet outside the park, so that was where Akira awaited him, hovering near the gates with his phone in one hand. Their discussion at the diner had been illuminating to be sure, but there was plenty of mystery left for him to sift through. While he waited, he Googled 'bel' and was directed to Wikipedia's disambiguation page. His search history was beginning to develop an interesting bend, to say the least.  
  
    ' _Bel (mythology)_ ' looked promising. Akira followed the link, then slid his glasses up onto his head to read. _Bel (/ˈbeɪl/; from Akkadian bēlu), signifying "lord" or "master"_. To his total lack of surprise, Abel was correct. If Wikipedia was to be believed, it wasn't a given name for anyone or anything. Bel was indeed a title. A King of Bel, then...  
  
    Abel wasn't the king of a nation, or a place.  
  
    He was a king of kings.  
  
    "You know, you're the only person I've ever seen who takes his glasses _off_ to read better."  
  
    Akira inhaled sharply and lifted his head to see Abel leaning over him, open intrigue and a smile taking up equal real estate on his face. Almost before Akira's eyes could even register it, his pale hand darted out, snatching Akira's glasses off his head and sliding them onto his own face as he ignored Akira's noise of steep disapproval.  
  
    "Abel!"  
  
    But he was ignored quite thoroughly as Abel gasped and leaned away from him, slapping both palms to his face. "Oh my god. These are _fake_ ," he crowed. An absolutely dazzling grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Akira! You wear fake hipster glasses!"  
  
    It was one of the precious few times he could feel the blush on his own face. "I-"  
  
    Laughter bubbled up in Abel's throat as he pressed both his blessedly cool palms to Akira's face and squeezed. "Don't be embarrassed! I like them. They look good on you. Very boy-next-door chic, like I could take you home and introduce you to my mom. Well, my mom is dead, but you know what I mean. Do I look as cute in them as you do?"  
  
    Though Abel was laughing at him, he was kind enough to soothe Akira's embarrassment with his barrage of compliments. Abel laid it on thick, but thick apparently really worked for him. "Yeah, you do," Akira assured him, earnest as ever. "They look better on you."  
  
    Abel laughed again and plucked them off his face, flipping them around and slipping them up the bridge of Akira's nose. "Thanks, cute stuff. You ready to head in?"  
  
    "I am." He moved to follow Abel when he found his hand snatched up. With little ceremony, Abel hauled him towards the gates, his cape billowing behind him in the summer wind. He certainly looked like a king of kings. Abel moved through the world with the easy confidence of someone who knew that nothing within it would ever inconvenience him. They were not stopped at the gates, or even looked at twice. Or once, for all Akira could tell.  
  
    If he weren't already familiar with Abel's overwhelming magic, he would think it a shame that the world did not look at him the way he deserved to be looked at. Abel carried himself as someone who should turn flowers like heads. Instead, everyone simply cleared out of their way as if whatever they had to do to get out of it was what they'd always meant to do all along.  
  
    "Alright, where are we heading to first? I don't even remember what's here." Abel was peering around with interest, his fingers still interlaced with Akira's even after they'd fallen still. He took the opportunity to strengthen his own grip and turn the tables, tugging Abel smoothly through the crowd.  
  
    "If you trust my judgment, then I thought that our first stop could be the Ferris wheel. We could get a view of the whole park."  
  
    "Ooh, I like! The coaster cuts through the middle of it, right? That's pretty cool. Let's do that, then!" Abel smiled as he allowed himself to be guided, but even with Akira in the lead, there wasn't much guidance necessary. Everyone simply moved aside, clearing an open path for them.  
  
    Amazing as the convenience was, it made for a deeply surreal existence. Though he was there taking up space in the world, he was very much not a part of it. Everyone moved and shuffled around them, entirely unaffected by them, and they unaffected in turn. He couldn't decide if he loved it or if he hated it. Was this how Abel felt all the time?  
  
    Like a complete outsider who didn't belong, no matter where he was?  
  
    "Abel?"  
  
    He blinked and lifted his chin, gazing at Akira from across the seat of the car. The entire line had backed up a step to allow them to take the front of it, not one person giving any indication of being aware that they'd even done so. "What's up?" Abel asked.  
  
    It was easier to ask him questions now that he wasn't afraid of Abel biting him or something. Akira glanced out the window and leaned closer to it, gazing down at the ground as they rose higher into the air. "Do you have any friends or family here? You haven't mentioned anyone."  
  
    "Ah." Abel followed his eyes, settling into the booth with his elbows propped up along the top edge of the seat. "I do and I don't. Schrödinger's friends, I suppose you could say. I know _them_ , but they only think that they know me."  
  
    Right. That was what Akira had guessed. He paused, though, blinking. "...Does that mean there's another Minegishi Kazuya running around? Or another Abel?"  
  
    "Quite!" Abel threw his head back and laughed, his eyes damn near glittering in the sun. "Akira, are you a dirty birdie? Are you thinking about the practical applications of having two of me? Don't worry, I'm sure my doppelganger thinks you're cute too."  
  
    "I think one of you is enough for me. I don't know if I could handle trying to impress two of you." God if that wasn't the truth. Akira swiveled away from the window and regarded Abel quietly. "I know it sucks, but maybe you could consider making a fresh start here? It's not so bad."  
  
    Abel tilted his head and eyed him, a slow smile drawing his mouth back. "Is that so?"  
  
    "Yeah. Sometimes you get lucky enough to meet a really attractive king."  
  
    He laughed again, and Akira liked the sound of it even more than he liked Abel's endearingly dorky taste in music. Speaking of which. "By the way, you know German?"  
  
    At that, Abel fell still and blinked at him. "Only what I learned from Blümchen songs? Why? Oh, and the Beyblade soundtrack. Also that one Juli song, and that Nina cover. ...Wow, I do have a lot of German songs, don't I?"  
  
    "I couldn't help but notice your diverse taste in music. Can you sing them all? There were at least eight different languages on your MP3 player."  
  
    The smug way Abel puffed up his chest amused him terribly. "You're goddamned right I can. I can sing in French like a fucking boss." Akira believed him. And he rather liked the sound of it.  
  
    "You'll have to show me some time," he murmured.  
  
    It was the first time he'd mentioned that he had listened to Abel's music, so they spent the rest of the ride discussing it, Abel adorably enthused to hear about Akira's favorites. By the time they were let back out of the car, Abel was in such a good mood that it radiated from his face.  
  
    "So, you liked the fucking at the end of the world song?" Abel eyed him suggestively as they ventured towards the line for the roller coaster. "I'll keep that in my mind for our future sex playlist."  
  
    To date, that was the most brazen thing Abel had ever said to him. Akira laughed helplessly, smothering it with his palm. "Have you already planned that far ahead?"  
  
    "Are you kidding me?" A slick little grin stole across his catty face. "I've had our wedding planned for a month."  
  
    "Oh yeah? Do you have us in matching tuxes?" he asked, an amused smirk twisting his own mouth as much as Abel's. "What's the theme? Help me picture it."  
  
    "Matching tuxes? Pfft, are you serious? I kill in a dress," Abel assured him, thrusting his nose into the air with a haughty sniff. "Anyway, I'm taller than you, so according to the rules, I think that means I'm the top. Not that I plan on waiting til the honeymoon."  
  
    Akira paused. The instant Abel fell still and turned to face him, he reached out and hooked a finger around one of Abel's cat ears, smoothly tugging his headphones down around his neck. Abel blinked at him in surprise, then tilted his head back and stared at the top of Akira's head. "What's the rule when we're the same height?" he asked innocently.  
  
    "In that case, I think it means we switch." Abel re-adjusted his headphones and grabbed Akira's hand, pulling him towards the front of the line. It struck him as sort of a rude thing to do regardless of whether or not anyone was aware of it, but frankly, if no one was even going to give them due credit for Kaneshiro's arrest, then skipping amusement park lines seemed like one of the more harmless perks to accept.  
  
    So skip they did, riding the roller coaster together, the Wonder Drop, the Bloom Express, and even the carousel, where Abel elected to ride a giant white rabbit. "What can I say?" he murmured, grasping the poll and leaning over to where Akira was straddling a pretty, dark horse. "I'm fond of rabbits."  
  
    He almost felt guilty for enjoying his second Dome Town experience so much more than the first, but in his defense, no one vomited this time. That was a plus that was hard to beat.  
  
    As they hopped off the carousel, Abel curled his arm around Akira's elbow and craned his neck. "What have we not done yet? That doesn't involve manual labor, I mean. I still think it's bullshit that they make little six year olds mine-cart-pump their asses around a track. Lame."  
  
    Akira pushed two fingers up his nose before he remembered that he'd taken off his glasses for the roller coaster and never put them back on. "We could do the viking ride."  
  
    "Oh, yeah, that's cool. We could do-"  
  
    The rest of Abel's sentence was drowned out by the sound of an absolutely pitiful sob, and they both peered back behind them to see a small girl standing near the carousel, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.  
  
    Abel bit his lip and let go of him, peering around as a scowl settled over his face. "Not that it's any of my business, or anything, but is it just me, or is there an alarmingly small number of adults near that child?"  
  
    Akira folded his arms. "You mean zero?"  
  
    "Yeah. That's what I meant." Abel huffed and shrunk away from the girl's direction, an almost defensive bend to his spine, as if he thought she might leap at his face. "...Okay, why isn't anyone helping her? She's clearly upset." Indeed, the longer she stood there alone, the harder she cried, both her tiny hands pushed into her eyes as long, dark blue strands of hair fell into her face. She couldn't have been older than seven.  
  
    He found himself caught somewhere between amusement at Abel's expense and increasing concern for the girl. "You know, _you_ could go help her if you're worried," he pointed out.  
  
    Abel shoved a hand to his sternum and bent almost in half to get away from him. "Me? What- I don't- ...I mean, I _guess_." He threw up both his hands in a show of melodrama that Akira was used to, and he stomped over the girl and crouched down in front of her. "So, I couldn't help but notice that you're crying really hard and you seem to be lacking in parental figures. What's that about?"  
  
    The poor girl, still sniffing, rubbed at her face and shook her head. "Sumimasen... Nihongo-ga wakarimasen."  
  
    The two of them exchanged glances before Abel abruptly switched. "How about English, then?" he asked, speaking perfect, unbroken English in a flawless accent. It was _really_ attractive.  
  
    Surprised, her hands fell away from her flushed face. Abel smiled back at her. "Aha. There we go. Looks like it's your lucky day. Did you lose your guardian?"  
  
    "Yeah!" She grasped at the loose edges of the dark blue plaid shirt draped over her skinny frame and wiped her face dry. "My necklace broke and I let go of my mommy, but I dropped it, and now I can't find anyone and I lost my necklace too..."  
  
    "Jeez, maybe it isn't your lucky day." Abel frowned at her with sympathy and folded his arms over his knee.  
  
    "No, it is." Akira didn't have the same easy fluency Abel did, and he couldn't quite mask his accent, but he could still speak to her. He motioned towards Abel with his head. "This one can do magic. I'm sure we can help you find your parents."  
  
    Her eyes opened wide, and he could see that they were a bright, vivid brown color. "Really?" She snapped her head towards Abel with awe on her face. Chagrined, Abel glared at him.  
  
    "Well it was _supposed_ to be a secret, so don't tell anyone, okay?" He looked back at her, and he thrust his finger beneath her nose with a mock sternness that made her laugh. "Alright, alright. Just one trick. You like cards, kiddo?"  
  
    She plopped down in front of him, interest bright on her face while she watched him produce his card packet out of thin air and begin shuffling them as he'd done with Akira. "I can play Go Fish," she told him.  
  
    "Good enough." Abel grinned and begun spinning them in dizzying arcs, shuffling them and twirling them like a scene from Alice in Wonderland. "Alright, pick a card, any card." He spread both his pale hands, the cards laying themselves out in a perfect arc, floating in front of her. She selected one and thrust it into his face.  
  
    "This one! What is it!"  
  
    Abel snorted, his face warm and amused. "You're not supposed to show it to me! But that's fine. I can work with that. 8 of Diamonds! That's a great card. 8's are the best cards," he murmured to her, adopting a conspiratorial tone as he put the card back and began to reshuffle them again. Once he had them in a neat, flawlessly stacked deck, Abel thumped the tip of his finger beneath them, and they disappeared with a crack. Then he thrust both his arms in front of her. "Reach into my sleeves so you know I'm not cheating."  
  
    The girl obeyed, wiggling her fingers beneath Abel's sleeves. "I don't feel anything!"  
  
    "That's right. I'm a good sport, see? Now where is your card?" He snatched up the hem of his cape and shoved his arm beneath it until it disappeared. He stayed like that for several moments, groping around for something. "I found it! Looks like it's stuck on something." He tugged and tugged, finally drawing out the card accompanied by the subtle rattle of a chain. When he finally drew it out, a thin, silver necklace was attached to it, dangling from the corner of the card. "Ta da!"  
  
    "That's my necklace!" Excitement burst from her as she grasped it, holding it tight. "You really are magic!"  
  
    "Shhhhh." Abel scowled and shushed her loudly.  
  
    "Oh, I'm sorry!" She pinched her fingertips and dragged them across her lips, then twisted. The gesture made Abel laugh hard.  
  
    "Exactly. See, you know what's up. Alright, kid, so, I realize this will not come as a surprise to you, but I'm not your dad and I can't really tell you what to do, but you really shouldn't be fraternizing with strangers."  
  
    She simply shook her dark blue head and clutched her necklace harder. "I know. My daddy told me so. But you're different. You're really nice! I can tell."  
  
    "What?!" A supremely offended little noise burst out of him as if she'd just stabbed him. "That's- how _dare_ you? You take that back, I'm awful."  
  
    She just laughed all the more and covered her mouth. "Nuh-uh! You're nice. You're magic and you look like a bat."  
  
    It amused Akira deeply to see how much such an innocuous statement threw Abel off. "Uh...you're gonna have to walk me through that one. You think I'm nice because I look like a bat? Most people think that's the opposite."  
  
    "I like bats!" She beamed brightly and grasped both ends of her necklace, spreading it open to show them both the charm. Sure enough, a little bat-shaped pendant dangled from the center, bobbing precariously. "My Grampa Stanley raises bats."  
  
    "Holy shit," Abel breathed. "That's a thing? He raises bats, like a fucking bat farmer? Oh my god, that's so cool. Hey, do you know if your grampa is accepting applications for extra grandkids? I'm just curious."  
  
    This time, she gasped and put her hand over Abel's mouth. "That's a bad word," she whispered to him. "That's two bad words!"  
  
    Abel shook her hand off and waggled his eyebrows at her. "See? I told you, I'm terrible." He stood up and took her hand gently, peering over at Akira and switching back to Japanese. "Alright, so. What if -- and I'm just throwing ideas out -- but what if we _don't_ find her family, and you and I just keep her and raise her forever and tell everyone we found her in a bag?"  
  
    Akira bit back a smile and pushed his hands into his pockets. "I think that might upset her Grampa Stanley."  
  
    "Oh, fuck, you're right." Abel frowned harder and rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. "I wouldn't want to upset a bat farmer." He tightened his hold on her small hand and glanced down at her. "What's your name, kiddo?"  
  
    "I'm Marjolaine Tsukino!"  
  
    "Your name is Marjolaine? Man, that's an awesome name. I'm Abel."  
  
    She smiled for him brightly and squeezed tighter at his hand. "Abel! I like that name! Who is that?" She glanced over to Akira, intrigued as she pressed her face to Abel's leg.  
  
    "That's Akira." Abel paused and then knelt down again, cupping Marjolaine's ear and putting on the most pathetic excuse for a 'whisper' Akira had ever heard in his life. "Don't tell him I told you this, but I have a huge crush on him."  
  
    Marjolaine tittered and covered her mouth again, her eyes bright with excitement as she was let in on the secret. "I won't tell," she whispered back, almost as loudly. "He's really cute!"  
  
    "I know, right? Man, you have excellent taste. It's the hair, don't you think? And his super cute glasses." Abel stood again and shook lightly at her arm. "Alright, I'll tell you what. You sit tight with Akira. It's best if you stay in one spot so your family can find you again just in case they make it back here first. I'm going to go look for them. What does your mom look like? Let me guess. She has blue hair like you."  
  
    Marjolaine perked up and nodded for him. The look on her face made Abel grin, and he ruffled her hair. "I figured. All the best people have blue hair, huh?" Again, she giggled, and she bobbed her head as Abel hopped into the air. "Alright, be right back!" He disappeared then, off to play hero with eager aplomb. And to think he had to be talked into it.  
  
    Akira sat down on the concrete beside her. Her face was still splotchy and red, but her tears had long since dried, and she looked to be in a much better mood. Akira could not blame her. Abel had that effect on people.  
  
    "Where are you from, Marjolaine?" He hoped that wasn't rude, but he couldn't resist his impulse to be curious. He was surprised she couldn't speak Japanese. She looked very much a native. Fortunately, she didn't seem offended.  
  
    "I'm from America," she told him, fiddling with her necklace. The clasp on it seemed to be broken. If he had some of his tools with him, he felt certain he could fix it, but as it were, he only had his phone. "We're here on vacation! Our family is from here, so we come sometimes. I never got lost before." She sighed so deeply it almost cracked him up, and he patted the top of her head.  
  
    "It's okay. I'm sure Abel can find them." He angled his legs to face her a little better and coaxed her to tell him about everything she'd ridden while they waited. She was, apparently, an extremely adventurous little thing, as addicted to excitement as Akira was.  
  
    "Marjolaine!!"  
  
    After about ten minutes, Akira craned his neck to see a tiny woman dashing towards them, her long blue hair streaming out behind her. "Mommy!" Marjolaine leapt up and into the woman's perilously thin arms. He couldn't believe she could actually lift her. "Mommy, I met a boy! His name is Abel and he looks like a bat!" The woman blinked and lifted her eyes towards Akira.  
  
    "A bat?"  
  
    "That's Akira, he's different!"  
  
    "Oh." She set Marjolaine back down on her feet and bowed deeply for Akira's benefit. "Thank you so, so much for taking care of her," she murmured, speaking flawless Japanese to him. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."  
  
    The depth of it made him uncomfortable, truth be told, and he rubbed at the back of his neck, his shyness creeping up with a vengeance. "I was happy to help." He had to convince her that he refused to accept any kind of payment when he hadn't really done anything noteworthy. It was mostly Abel doing the legwork. The woman relented, though, taking Marjolaine's hand and escorting her back to where a couple of brunet men were already moving towards them. One of them was leaning heavily on a cane. Her Grampa Stanley, maybe.  
  
    Akira was still watching their emotional reunion when he felt a sharp chin drop against his shoulder. He tilted his head slightly and felt the heat of Abel's cheek bleeding into his own. He didn't say anything at all. "That was really nice of you, what you did," Akira said.  
  
    "Please." He pulled off him then, then shifted to rest his cheek on Akira's shoulder. "Marjolaine has a pretty big family."  
  
    "Yeah. She told me about them." Akira knew more about Marjolaine's family tree than he did his own, at this point. She had an Auntie Sakey and an Uncle Donovon, and god brothers and sisters, and an Auntie Tegan. Some day she was going to be heir to her Grampa's amazing bat estate.  
  
    It felt...strange to know that he'd now seen more of her family than he had his own in several months.  
  
    Akira pulled away from him and turned to face Abel. For once, he wasn't smiling, or even frowning. He simply looked withdrawn and a little sullen. "Are you okay?"  
  
    His nose wrinkled sharply, and Abel scoffed at him. "I'm fine. Kids are dumb. Are you ready to go?"  
  
    He held Abel fast, his fingers curling around his wrist before he could turn away from him. "Abel."  
  
    "...Alright, fine. They're not dumb. She was super cool." Abel made an irritated little noise and pitched forward, smacking a noisy kiss to Akira's cheek. "I'm all funned out. You ready to go?"  
  
    Akira wasn't, but he allowed Abel to whisk him away regardless. They appeared outside the cozy little shopfront of Leblanc, and Abel let go of him without a word.  
  
    He made it all the way up to his room before he realized with an uncomfortable lurch of his heart that Abel hadn't left him anything at all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **content warning** : this chapter contains some non-graphic references to animal harm/death

* * *

 

 

    Summer vacation turned out to be a bit of a misnomer. It was summer, certainly. Harsh sunlight bounced off the pavement so hard he could see the very air sizzling, and the steady drone of cicadas was maddening. But it was not much of a vacation. Akira was still expected to juggle seeing his friends, all of whom must have coordinated to want to see him on the same damn days as each other, and Sojiro snapped at him every time he slept in, as if that weren't exactly what summer vacation was intended for.  
  
    He was grateful for the break from school, but he stayed so busy that it wasn't an especially restful one. In between fielding declarations of war from pretentious hacktivists, being blackmailed for the nth time, and plundering an Egyptian pyramid to steal the heart of a teenage hermit, Akira came to find that there truly was no rest for the wicked. At least Iwai was talking to him by then. That was pretty cool.  
  
    Truthfully, it wasn't that bad. They'd successfully stolen Futaba's heart well before the deadline, affording him a lot more time for the rest of his precarious balancing act. But to Akira's intense disappointment, now that he did finally have some free time, the person he was most excited to see had seemingly vanished. After their date at Dome Town, Abel grew more and more taciturn until finally, he told Akira he'd be too busy to talk for the next couple of days.  
  
    But that was two weeks ago.  
  
    They were only a little over a week into August. The hot, dry heat of summer beat down over his head with such ferocity, he felt like Icarus reborn, and the sun had pushed closer to the earth just to spite him. He could feel the heat simmering up from the sidewalk with each languid step he took. If he looked behind him, Akira fancied he'd find thin layers of melted black rubber in his wake, each in the shape of his boots.  
      
    God, he hoped the next palace was in some winter palace worthy of its own Disney movie. He didn't know if he could handle another trek from an urban desert to an _actual_ desert.  
  
    The streets were crowded with equally miserable people, sweaty necks and limp hair as far as they eye could see. He'd agreed to pick up a couple of shifts at Triple Seven as a favor to Nanami, but he was beginning to wonder how wise an idea that was. Now that he was rolling in a respectable amount of dosh from his time in the palaces, accepting less than 3,000 yen for a few hours of tedious customer service struck him as a little bit insulting. He could shake down obnoxious shadows for that much if he wanted. Still, he did like Nanami, and it was nice to spend time in a place that had air conditioning.  
  
    His walk back to the station was so rote that Akira barely paid any attention, consumed by his own daydreams until Morgana wriggled in his bag and shot out from the open top. " _Joker_!"  
  
    Immediately, he stopped short and tilted his head to bring himself face-to-face with his omnipresent cat mom, whose paws were propped on his shoulder. "What is it?"  
  
    " _I smell something familiar. Turn around_!"  
  
    Akira obeyed, pivoting on his heel and swiftly side-stepping the oncoming foot traffic. Morgana didn't often stop him like that; he could admit to the pique of his curiosity as he weaved between bodies until he could get on the right side of the sidewalk. He allowed Morgana to direct him to the alley in question, and he slid to an abrupt halt as a furl of thick, deeply matte black fabric snagged his attention.  
  
    "Abel?" Akira stepped behind him, careful not to trod on the hem of his cape. Abel was crouched down into the narrow wedge between two brick buildings, his knees bent and his white hands spread across them. His thin fingers were curled into claws, fingernails buried so deep in the hot pink fabric that Akira couldn't see the edges of them at all. "...Abel, are you okay?"  
  
    The curved line of Abel's back went rigidly straight, then eased. "Go away, Akira."  
  
    His tone was sharp enough to cut. Akira fell back a step, flinching away from him. It hurt, at first. Abel _never_ spoke to him that way. But the crack he'd detected in Abel's voice soon chased it away. That cold command wasn't anger. It was a warning.  
  
    Abel was hunched over something Akira couldn't see, but he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to. His cape hung over his bony frame, puddled across the dirty asphalt like a funeral shroud. Akira had no idea what to say, but the instinct to comfort was fierce and bucked all his attempts to resist it. He stepped closer to him again, stretching a hand out towards his unmoving body.  
  
    Beneath them, the asphalt splintered, a lightning bolt of black bursting from between his feet out to the street. It was followed by another, then another, the ground shattering into a spiderweb of broken pavement that reached up onto the buildings on either side of it. He could hear the buckle of both foundations echoing in his ears.  
  
    The sky was swiftly turning grey. Thick clouds choked out the August sun, and the temperature dropped by degrees. He could feel his bag swing violently when Mona ducked back into it and curled up at the bottom.  
  
    "Abel-"  
  
    The man let go of his knees and held his hands out. They were so pale he could see thin strands of blue standing beneath his skin. Then his senses were consumed by the smell of fire, of something burning. Flesh and hair and ash burned the inside of his nose. Akira fell back further, clutching both hands to his face, his watering eyes squeezed shut.  
  
    Then as suddenly as it started, it went away. He could smell nothing but ozone when Abel stood up again. As he turned to face him, Akira forced his eyes open. His face was pale and smooth and still, but his eyes were bright. Seething. Something sparked in those red irises, like the fire he'd summoned had not been snuffed out, but moved -- absorbed and stoked to an inferno.  
  
    "Aren't people just the fucking worst?" Abel asked him. His lips drew into a thin smile.  
  
    He turned and walked away from Akira without another word, stepping out onto the sidewalk, his cape billowing behind him in a cold wind that hadn't been there before. Akira watched him go until he disappeared.  
  
    The ground was still cracked. Akira sidestepped it carefully and fell to one knee where Abel had been kneeling. Right out from beneath the pavement, a spray of white flowers had bloomed in a cluster that reminded him of orange-streaked stars. The petals swayed in the wind, unfurling over what looked to be a small pile of ash on the ground that was soon picked up and carried away on the air. He recognized those flowers from his time at the flower shop.  
  
    Asphodel.  
  
    Mona's paws on his shoulder roused him back to awareness. " _Is Abel okay...? What just happened?_ "  
  
    "I don't know," Akira confessed.  
  
    And he didn't. Not until it was confirmed at his next shift at Triple Seven, the last one he'd promised Nanami before he would likely put that particular job behind him for good. She was more subdued than he remembered. Not that she was _boisterous_ , by any means, but the frown on her face looked as if it didn't belong there.  
  
    Before he went to collect Mona, he asked her what was wrong.  
  
    "Well..." She shifted and looked away from him, discomfort flashing across her round face. "Have you heard the rumors? I heard some college students talking about them earlier. There's an alley nearby where people have been finding..." She drifted off again, a harder frown curling her mouth before she chewed at her lip.  
  
    Akira felt his stomach curdle. She pressed on, though, taking a short breath and looking back at him, her hands clasped in front of her and rubbing anxiously. "I saw one too. A cat in the road. It was injured really badly. I tried to get close to it, but it got scared and ran away. Those kids were gossiping about another student who abuses animals, so I thought maybe..." Her teeth sank into her lip again. "But the rumors were worse. Not just injured cats, but dead ones too. I just can't shake the feeling that he's the one responsible for hurting the cat that I saw."  
  
    A hot coal of rage burned in his stomach. "Do you know his name?" he asked, his voice more abrupt than he meant it to be.  
  
    Nanami looked surprised. "I don't think the police would do anything without proof, but...maybe someone could still alert them. I think his name is Kazuo Tsuboi." She went quiet for a bit, then forced a smile onto her face, her shoulders lifting. "Maybe the Phantom Thieves could do something it."  
  
    It brought a more genuine smile to his face. "That is the sort of thing they do, right?" He excused himself to change clothes and pick Mona up from the back room.

    " _Did you hear that, Joker_?" Mona asked, puffed up in righteous indignation on behalf of...cats. No doubt he'd complain if Akira pointed out the obvious.  
  
    "Yeah. Let's do it."  
  
    Kazuo Tsuboi was fucking going _down_. He'd stolen a lot of rotten hearts in the Metaverse. Thieves and abusers and other awful people who felt entitled to the world at everyone else's expense. But this request felt intensely personal, more than any other he could remember. This miserable prick was stealing lives from innocent animals who couldn't fight back, like their right to their own lives was worth less than his right not to be inconvenienced or unhappy.  
  
    And he hurt Abel. Fuck him.  
  
    Akira completely rearranged his schedule. By mid-afternoon the next day, they were in Mementos, primed and ready to go. "Mona, it's all you." Joker worked a thumb beneath the edge of his bright red glove and yanked it taut, flexing each of his fingers one by one. They hadn't been to Mementos in awhile. They'd racked up six requests to tackle, which Mona was quick to confirm.  
  
    "Roger that, Joker! I have a read on all six of them!"  
  
    "Perfect." He decided to switch things up. While he normally took Queen and Skull for their sheer damage output, this time he was driven by complete and utter spite. Mona took the second slot, followed by Panther, and Fox. They made for quite the lineup, and Joker was dreadfully smug about it. "Let's go."  
  
    What could he say? He lived for the irony. If they were going to be shadowy vigilantes, punishers of the un-punished, then they were going to do it right.  
  
    There were a couple of shadows lingering in some of the higher floors that they dispatched before Mona drove them lower and lower. Mementos had been spooky and unsettling at first, but now it was just sort of monotonous. Things sort of lose the fear factor when every new floor is 'spooky but with a fresh coat of paint'.  
  
    But at least it went by quickly enough. They had successfully completed their fourth request when Mona stopped him, snagging his thick cuff before they could waltz out of the shadow's small chamber. "Uhm, Joker...how many was that?"  
  
    He jammed both his gloved hands into his jacket, but he made no attempt to shake Mona off his cuff. "Four. Why?"  
  
    "Are you sure?"  
  
    What the fuck. He hadn't lost his ability to count in the last hour. Joker frowned back and dropped to his knees before him. "I'm sure. What's wrong?"  
  
    "I'm only getting one more reading now. But there were six before, I swear!"  
  
    "Oh."  
  
    Oh. Hm. Mona had never lost a reading before. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe his signal was jammed or...something. He did not profess to know how that shit worked. Joker plucked one of his hands out and dragged his fingers through his hair. "Let's keep going. Maybe you'll pick it up again."  
  
    Mona looked hesitant, but he did nod, and he hopped away to retake his bus form. "Maybe."  
  
    But he did not pick it up again. The fifth shadow was the shitty, blackmailing manager. Kazuo Tsuboi's shadow was nowhere to be found.  
  
    "I know there were six!" Mona asserted. Loudly.  
  
    Joker was equally sure they had only dealt with five shadows. They had never confronted Tsuboi, and that was the whole fucking reason he'd called for this trip. One of Panther's bright pink gloves caught his eye just before she laid it over his bicep. "Uhm, hey, I know this one was important to you, but if he's not here, then what can we do? Maybe he's deeper down where we can't reach yet."  
  
    Mona shook his head so hard his ears flapped. "He's not, I can't feel him at all. But shadows don't just disappear like that!"  
  
    A slow frown pulled across Panther's pink mouth, and she draped her forearm over his shoulder. "Well, maybe his heart changed on its own?"  
  
    "No way. That doesn't just happen unless their desires get stolen, or-"  
  
    Or if they died.  
  
    A cold sweat began to itch beneath his shirt. Surely not. His friends were tired, and he was starting to lose his cool, but he refused to turn back. He had Mona take them as deep as they could possibly go before the next block barred them from exploring further. It irritated him, but as Mona reminded him, he couldn't feel Tsuboi down there.  
  
    Likely because he wasn't there. Joker took it in stride, but when the mask was off and they were safely back in the real subway station, Akira did not. He knew. He _knew_.  
  
    When he arrived back at Leblanc and collapsed into bed, he slid his phone out of his pocket and texted Mishima.  
  
_If you hear so much as a whisper of cats being abused, will you let me know right away? I would really appreciate it._  
  
    Mishima answered in the affirmative, but Akira had the distinct impression that he wouldn't be hearing anything at all.  
  
    His instincts were right. The only thing he did hear was about the disappearance of a local college student. The police had no leads, of course.  
  
    Abel still wasn't texting him. The last message was from Akira, acknowledging his goodbye and bidding for him to be safe. Abel had never responded to it. He thought about texting him a hundred times, but what could he possibly say?  
  
    Maybe he didn't need to say anything. Maybe Abel did. Akira left Morgana at Leblanc and slowly made his way to Central Street. Little more than a gut feeling guided him back to the alley, but his complete lack of planning was rewarded. Abel was sitting on the ground, his long, skinny legs stretched out before him and a beautiful calico sleeping with its face resting against his thigh. He was stroking its fur as it slept. Abel looked up at the same time Akira's shadow cast over him. "Hey, Akira."  
  
    "Hey yourself." God, now what did he say? He hadn't been as prepared for this as he'd thought. "You've been really busy lately. Have things settled down yet?"  
  
    Abel paused, his hand going still. "Ah. Yeah. I'm sorry about that." Gently, he lifted the cat from his thigh, but the jostling, minimized though it was, still woke it. The instant it saw Akira, it bolted down the street and vanished from sight. He was loathe to admit it aloud, but it really hurt his feelings.  
  
    Evidently, Abel noticed. He laughed, soft and low, and he slid a hand around Akira's shoulder to squeeze it. "Don't take it personally. They've been through a lot."  
  
    His stomach twisted. "I know."  
  
    Anxiety turned each of his organs inside out one at a time. His skin felt cold even in the heat, and his heart was pounding a wild beat against his ribs. "A college student went missing around here," Akira finally said.  
  
    Abel's mouth worked into a slow, unmoved frown. "Oh, yeah? Tragic."  
  
    "Not really. People are saying it was the guy abusing all those cats."  
  
    The weight of Abel's hand disappeared from his shoulder. He stared at Akira hard, his eyebrows drawing into a faint furrow. Then the furrow disappeared, replaced by an expression that was as impassive as it was uncaring. "Then yeah, good riddance."  
  
    Akira swallowed the bubble that swelled up in his throat. "Good riddance? You don't think it sucks that he won't face proper punishment?"  
  
    The smile that gripped the lower half of Abel's face made his blood run cold. It was like a rictus of cold mirth, utterly devoid of the warmth Abel usually carried with him. "Who's to say he didn't?"  
  
    It occurred to him that he had never had an actual conversation about what 'proper punishment' was, even with his own comrades. Ann had decided there were fates worth than death. He and Ryuji had agreed. But beyond that, they didn't often speak of the intricacies of their justice. They had only agreed not to kill people. Abel had made no such agreement.  
  
    Akira wet his lips. "Maybe someone else was trying to do something about it."  
  
    "Like who?" Abel sneered openly. "The _Phantom Thieves_?" He hadn't been prepared for the absolute disdain pouring off his tongue. It cut him to the fucking quick. "What were they going to do, steal his heart? What use is there in letting a piece of garbage like that stay alive?"  
  
    "I just- don't you think that there are other ways? He could have atoned-"  
  
    Abel cut him off with an impatient jerk of his hand and curled his lip. "Atoned how? Was he gonna turn himself into the police? Like they would have done shit. Those incompetent fucks couldn't even arrest an unsubtle gangbanger, but they're gonna jail an animal abuser? Give me a fucking break. There _is_ no atoning for that. Do all the jail time you want. Be sad and regretful for the rest of your life, but crying isn't going to fucking bring back a bunch of dead cats, Akira."  
  
    He was snarling at this point, his white, sharp teeth bared and his hands curled into fists. Akira had no idea how to react. His insides were black with ash. "So you think some people are totally irredeemable?"  
  
    "Yeah," Abel bit out. "I do." Impatience lashed through him as he raked a hand through his mussed blue hair. "Destroying helpless things is an animal's game. You want to live like an animal, then you die like an animal. Why are you wasting time being sad about some piece of shit cocksmear who gets off on torturing things that can't fight back?"  
  
    "I'm not _sad_ ," Akira spit, "I'm-" Angry. That hard fist of coal returned and burned yet hotter. Abel knew him. How could he think Akira would be sad for someone like that? He knew he wasn't wrong. Abel lighting into him had made him afraid, but the more he thought about it, the more certain he was that his justice was correct. They could have changed his heart. They could have made him remorseful, made it so that each and every day he woke up, it would be with the irrevocable knowledge that he had innocent blood on his hands and would until the day he died. It was a fate worse than death. It was what he deserved, to live the rest of his life besmirched by the pain he'd caused.  
  
    "There are other ways to suffer, Abel. It didn't have to end like that."  
  
    Abel scoffed at him and swung away, flicking such a dismissive hand it only pissed him off worse. "Then you'll be glad to be reminded that there are millions upon millions of universes where that gormless little maggot is still alive abusing cats. So what. Who cares? Him being dead here changes nothing."  
  
    The fire deserted him, then, and Abel slumped against the wall. His face was so drained and tired that it snuffed the fiery anger out of Akira as well. He followed, leaning on the wall in front of him and peering into his face. "If it was so meaningless, then why did you do it?"  
  
    The alley was silent for ages. Abel tilted forward into him like his legs were giving out, and a sudden wash of deep, intense regret stole across his face. "...Because I knew about it. I'm sorry, Akira." He dropped so quickly Akira started, jerking out to catch him, but it was too late. Abel crumpled to the ground and gripped his calves, his lips peeling back from his teeth in a grimace. "I'm sorry. I try so hard not to interfere, but it keeps happening. Fuck. I'm such a fuck up."  
  
    "You are not." Akira reached for him, curling his fingers around Abel's forearms, but he yanked away from him and grit his teeth.  
  
    "Yes, I am! I fuck up everything I touch. I've been to universes where I became the literal _Messiah_ , and it was still the wrong fucking thing to do. Do you know how I lost my universe? Because I got scared and ran away and now it's out of my reach forever. So when I went to a different one, you know what happened? I fucked that one up too. I met a boy and almost screwed up an apocalypse and got everyone in a whole second universe killed."  
  
    His eyes were blazing with emotion, cut raw as he clutched Akira's pale hands. "I'm not a fucking idiot, Akira. I know you're wrapped up in some dangerous shit, and I don't care." Abel paused and bit his lip. "Okay, that's bullshit, I do care. I care _so much_. It drives me fucking insane not to ask you about it, but I can't, because if I do, I'll try to help, and I'll ruin everything for you like I ruin it for everyone else."  
  
    Abel ducked his head, his mouth quivering and his hands wracked with tremors inside Akira's own. "I can't solve the world's problems. You know you can't either, right?"  
  
    Akira made a soft noise and let go of him, taking Abel's chin into his hand and lifting his head. "So solve all of them or none at all? Come on, Abel." He's no idiot himself. Abel might try to distance himself from the world around him, but when it came down to it, he couldn't resist. He couldn't _stand_ not helping people. He was rather like Akira in that respect. "I refuse to believe that you honestly think that there's no benefit in trying to make your own corner of the world a better place. I know I can't solve the world's problems. But I'm still going to try."  
  
    Finally, Abel deflated. He went silent again, his eyes growing wet. He pinched his lips between his teeth so Akira couldn't see them tremble, but it was too late for that. And it was extremely transparent. Akira tilted his head and offered him a bright smile. "Please let me help you."  
  
    He found himself with an armful of boy as Abel collapsed into them. His arms were wire tight around Akira's frame, and he buried his face in the side of his neck. Akira held him as hard as he could. "You're so stubborn," Abel complained.  
  
    "So I've heard."  
  
    Abel laughed and sniffed into his ear. It was both pitiful and ridiculously cute. "I'm sorry I talked shit about the Phantom Thieves. I didn't mean it."  
  
    Akira tilted his head and drew his lips into a secretive little smile. "What makes you think my feelings were hurt?"  
  
    "Psh." Drawing back from Akira's grip, Abel scrubbed at his eyelashes. "You seem like a fanboy, is all."  
  
    What an ass. Akira laughed at him and yanked him forward by the cape. "You're kind of a shit."  
  
    "You know, I get that a lot." Abel stood finally, brushing the dirt from his knees before he helped Akira up. "I am sorry I went missing on you. I wasn't ignoring you. I was...looking for my universe, I guess. Still no luck."  
  
    Akira took in a sharp breath. If he found it, would he be leaving? "I'm sorry," he said, but his words rang hollow even to him.  
  
    "Nah, don't be." Abel smiled for him for the first time since their encounter. "I like being stuck here with you. Thank you, Akira."  
  
    Surprise lanced through him. "For what?"  
  
    It made Abel laugh, and he slunk closer to him and ruffled fondly at his curls. "For being you. I should go. I did sort of paint a target on myself. You were right, that was stupid. I shouldn't have."  
  
    Paint a target on himself? Akira frowned softly. "You're not worried the Phantom Thieves will try to steal your heart, are you?"  
  
    "Nah, not at all." Abel laughed and threw himself backwards, his cape swirling dramatically and both his hands slamming over his heart. "They'd have to come take it from you, babe," he assured him with a wink.  
  
    He laughed as he walked away from him, his characteristic warmth having bled back into him.  
  
    Akira blushed the whole way home.


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

 

 

    Abel's concern about the target he'd painted on his own back was understandable, but in the end, it amounted to very little. If there was any meaningful, concentrated effort to find the missing college student, then the police were remarkably quiet about it. Akira suspected that if there ever had been one in the first place -- which he doubted -- it fizzled out quickly. No one seemed to care much that he was gone.  
  
    Even so, Abel was difficult to reach for a few days. It made him a little nervous. He knew Abel would be safe (he'd like to see the cops even try to arrest someone who could disappear at will), and it did afford him the time he needed to finish rescuing Futaba from herself. But Abel's absence still worried him. If he didn't come back soon, his plan was going to be ruined.  
  
    Fortunately, his fears were for naught. Abel resurfaced on the 22nd, just in time for news of the vandalization of Medjed's website to hit. Akira stuck around to watch the report at Leblanc with the rest of the Phantom Thieves, but he extricated himself as soon as possible to hang out with his favorite demon king.  
  
    Abel met him at Leblanc right as it closed. Akira let him in and flipped the sign over while Abel got comfortable at the bar. "Is this your first time here?"  
  
    "Yeah! Well, downstairs, anyway," Abel corrected. He leaned back in one of the bar stools and swept his gaze across the cafe with all the attention of an inquisitive cat. "It's nice! I dig it. It's cozier than I was expecting." Both his palms slapped against the counter top just as Akira slid behind the bar. "Does this mean I get to see your cute barista uniform?"  
  
    Akira did not break eye contact with him the entire time he slipped the green apron over his head and tied the strings at the small of his back. "Yes," he said. Then he swept his hands along his sides. "Please contain your applause."  
  
    His retort rolled off Abel's back like water. Instead of respond with equal sarcasm, he lit up and pushed closer to Akira, dropping his forearms to the bar. "It's so cute! You look so official. Are you going to make some midnight coffee?"  
  
    He smiled and adjusted his glasses. "Sure." He had a feeling that Abel didn't sleep anyway, and besides, he'd gotten pretty good at making snob-approved coffee. He'd spent many, many nights practicing brewing at Leblanc in the hopes that Sojiro would like him, but for some reason, his confidant had been stuck at 4 since May or something.  
  
    The mistake did not occur to him until Akira had finished making a cup on auto-pilot. He slid the porcelain mug over to Abel with another small smile. "For you. I put a little love in it."  
  
    It was a pretty lame joke, but Abel looked so stricken by it that Akira could only imagine he had taken him entirely literally. He stared down into the dark liquid, his eyebrows pinched and his lips pulled into an overcome little frown. "I-" Only then did Akira realize.  
  
    "...You don't drink. I'm so sorry," he blurted. God, he was such an asshole. "Here. It's okay, I'll-"  
  
    "No!" Abel snatched the cup up with a dangerous slosh of hot coffee against the sides. "Hey, you said you made it for me, no take backs!"  
  
    Akira stared at him blankly. "But-" He jerked both his hands up and watched Abel pivot away from him like Akira was going to snatch the cup right out of his hands. "Abel, don't-"  
  
    Too late. Abel slammed his head back and chugged that coffee like a fifteen year old shotgunning a beer for the first time. The instant the last drop went down his throat, Abel let the cup fall onto its saucer and wheezed. "Oh my god, that was hotter than Satan's taint."  
  
    "It was _coffee_."  
  
    Abel ignored him. He rubbed at his sternum and coughed pitifully. "Jesus fuck. I feel like my insides are on fire. That was super good, though."  
  
    Truth be told, Akira wasn't sure he quite believed Abel could actually taste it. "Are you okay?" At this point in their relationship, he'd known Abel for months, and he'd _never_ seen him eat or drink. Akira couldn't help but be terrified that he was going to start projectile vomiting across the counter. Abel looked about the same, poised on the very edge of his seat as if he were prepared to throw himself out the front door at a moment's notice.  
  
    But nothing happened. "...Yeah," he finally said, slowly relaxing. "I think so. Huh!" Abel perked up and smiled brightly. "Good to know. You should make me another one. I don't think I could taste the love in that one."  
  
    Oh, he bet. Akira made a disbelieving noise and adjusted his glasses before he decided to slide them off and put them down. No use in wearing them when Abel knew his dirty little secret. "Yeah, you knocked it back pretty quickly. You sure you didn't burn a hole in your throat?"  
  
    "Mm, maybe." Abel laughed and lifted both his eyebrows, the rest of his face contorting into a lascivious expression. "I think I'm flattered that you're so worried about the state of my throat, but I'm fine. I'm pretty tough. I can handle another cup. I promise I won't suck it down like a shot this time."  
  
    He eyed Abel briefly, then nodded. "You'd better not. I worked hard on that flavor profile." His smile remained fixed there on his face as he went to make him another cup, and Abel giggled into both his hands.  
  
    "Flavor profile! Listen to you! You really are a hipster. A coffee snob who wears fake glasses. Akira, you know you aren't going to trick anyone into thinking you're not a hardened criminal by being so cute and unassuming, right?"  
  
    "I know. It's the knuckle tattoos that give it away, right?" The coffee needed to sit a moment, which presented a convenient opportunity. Akira reached into his bag on the counter, and he produced a small box that he'd wrapped in black and red striped paper. It had reminded him of Abel. "I got this for you."  
  
    He slipped it into Abel's hands as he stared at it, wide-eyed and baffled. "You did? Why?"  
  
    Akira made a note of that. The 22nd apparently wasn't it, but he hadn't expected it to be. "Because I wanted to."  
  
    "Well! I can't argue with that." Abel laughed and tore the paper away, his entire body consumed by his curiosity. When he got the box unwrapped, his red eyes popped open yet wider. "'Offensive Crayons'?" he read in English. Eagerly, he opened them up and pulled out a crayon to read the color. "Boner Pill Blue? Oh my god." He laughed long and hard as he slid it back and grabbed another one, his face bright with excitement. "Suspicious Cold Sore. Cyantology."  
  
    By the time he got to 'Statutory Grape', Abel was laughing so hard his entire face was red, and he came perilously close to falling right out of his chair. "Holy fuck. Akira, these are _amazing_. Miscarriage Maroon? These are awful, I love them."  
  
    Akira could not remember the last time he had actually _grinned_. He was now, his face beginning to hurt as Abel crawled across the counter and threw his arms around his neck. "I'm glad you like them," he murmured, his hands coming to rest against Abel's back. "They seemed perfect for you. I couldn't find any in Japanese, but I figured you'd do fine with English. You should break them in."  
  
    "I should!" Abel flopped back down into his seat, his face still pink and sunny with happiness. "Let's see -- oh, I know! I need..." He rooted through the box. "I need Your Parents' Divorce Was Your Fault, Peach, annnnd Travel Ban Brown." When he had a fresh napkin in front of him, Abel got to doodling with his brand new crayons.  
  
    He left Abel to draw in peace and finished making his coffee. He put that one in front of him and wound around the bar to sit down in the seat beside him. "Are you busy tomorrow?"  
  
    "Hm?" Abel blinked and lifted his head. From what Akira could tell, he was drawing another dick, which did seem appropriate for Offensive Crayons. "No, not at all. Why?"  
  
    "How about the rest of the week?"  
  
    At that, Abel rolled his eyes playfully. "I'll have to look at my oh-so-busy schedule and see if I can pencil you in. Of course I'm not. I'm never too busy for you. You're the one juggling eight part-time jobs and a bunch of delinquents who want to hang out with you."  
  
    Fair enough. Akira looked up from the napkin to meet Abel's pretty eyes. "I'm about to start school again. I was hoping I could spend the next week or so with you." He'd already told his friends that, in fact. He'd agreed to help with Futaba's reintroduction to the outside world every day, but he'd taken steps to ensure that each and every evening was free so he could see Abel.  
  
    "You- really?" Abel's fingers fell still around his crayon.  
  
    "Yeah. Why wouldn't I?"  
  
    He watched Abel's teeth sink into his bottom lip. Then he let go and beamed for him. "I'd love to. Now that I know I can actually consume things, I won't just stare at you like a creeper while you try to eat."  
  
    It served as a welcome reminder. Akira swung to face him a little more head-on. "What do you like to eat? Did you have any favorite snacks? Pre-King-of-Belhood, I mean."  
  
    Abel took a sip of his coffee and then went back to his dick drawing. "I used to eat the fuck out of some NongShim Onion Rings. I also got a taste for Mexican Coke. That's good shit. Regular Coke sucks. It's gotta be _hecho en Mexico_ or it's not good," he announced, so decisively that Akira found himself laughing again.  
  
    "Duly noted." He flicked two of his fingers out to push on the handle of Abel's mug, and he lifted it to his mouth to take a sip. He did damn good that time. Abel better taste the love now.  
  
    He fell silent as he watched Abel color, leaning against his arm. "...Is that the Yaranaika face?"  
  
    It was.  
  
    When his masterpiece was completed and the last of the coffee was drained, Akira elected to take the napkin to add it to his growing gallery of Abel's beautiful crayon dicks and cat pictures. "I like the veins at the bottom," he commented, leaning with his chin over Abel's shoulder. "That was a nice touch."  
  
    "Thank you, thank you. You're too kind." Abel tilted his own head to rest against Akira's temple. "I work really hard on those dicks."  
  
    "I know. You're my favorite artist."  
  
    That gave Abel quite the pause. He shifted away from him, staring at the Sayuri on Leblanc's wall. "Aren't you friends with, like, an _actual_ artist who has his shit up in exhibits and stuff?"  
  
    Akira dropped his chin to Abel's shoulder and shrugged. "Yusuke never drew my face on a playing card."  
  
    "You know, good point." Abel presented the napkin to him with a little flourish. "Thank you for my new crayons. I'll love and cherish them until they're worn down to little nubs and I can't use them anymore." After they bid each other goodbye, he let Akira walk him to the door and took his leave for the night. Akira went to bed that night armed with several good ideas for the next evening.  
  
    The morning of the 23rd, he got up to accompany Yusuke and Makoto while they hung out in Futaba's room. He wasn't sure how he felt about that god awful mask she insisted on putting on to deal with The Public, but whatever it took, he supposed. As soon as they were done, he left the Sakura household and made his way to Shibuya.  
  
    That was the part that took him _much_ longer than anticipated. Acquiring some NongShim Onion Rings was easy enough, and he bought several bags of them. But Mexican Coke was impossible to find. He searched as many konbinis as he came across and eventually settled on Googling. Buying online was about his only option, but having them shipped would take way too long to get them in time. Instead, he bought some aluminum bottles of regular Japanese coke and hoped that Abel had just been exaggerating, which did strike him as a safe assumption.  
  
    He bought a few other things before he was satisfied, and he went home to put it all together so he could text Abel to meet up.  
  
_Hey. Sorry that took longer than I had intended, but I'm ready when you are._  
  
    It took Abel a few minutes to respond.  
  
_sweet. you want to break into dome town after hours with me?_  
  
    Damn. Apparently Akira wasn't the only one with plans for an electric evening. He sent back _uh, yes, obviously_ , and that was that. At a little after one in the morning, he and Abel found themselves right in the middle of the empty park. It was completely surreal. He'd never been out and about quite this late knowing that most of the trains would have stopped running.  
  
    Every single light was off. He could barely make out the looming shapes of the rides in the dark, heavy silence of the park. It was wonderfully spooky, and it thrilled him to know this was the closest he'd ever come to actually breaking and entering. And he wasn't even in his thief costume.  
  
    Akira curled his fingers along the inside of Abel's wrist and kept them there until Abel slid his arm back, grasping his hand instead and squeezing. "Spooky, huh?" he asked, whispering loudly and grinning for him in the darkness. "Kinda makes me think of the amusement park from Silent Hill 3. Would you go through a scary haunted house with me, Akira?"  
  
    "Of course I would." He took the lead, drawing Abel between various rides and heading in the direction of the Ferris wheel. "Can you make the rides work still?"  
  
    "Naturally! I wouldn't ask you to come out here just to admire the scenery. Especially when you can't even see it." Abel laughed and let go of his hand. Akira was bereft for a few seconds, but he soon found himself distracted from it as Abel scooped him right up off the pavement and hefted him into his arms. "Come on! I like the Ferris wheel, and I especially like that it's called the 'Big O'." He made a snarky little sound of amusement and whisked Akira up onto the platform, setting him down again just before the first car. His hand twisted shut and drew back. The door sprung open, allowing them both entry into the compartment.  
  
    Akira slid across one seat, making room for his demonic companion to sit beside him. Abel did just that, but he also tilted his head back and frowned. "This glassed in shit does not work for me. How about this?" With another wave of both his hands, the entire car warped and twisted, changing shape to an open seat that let the wind whip past them and tousle their hair.  
  
    "Oh, wow."  
  
    "Better, huh?" Grinning, Abel nudged him in the ribs and slid downward, throwing his arms up over his head. The ride started to move in a smooth circle, lifting them higher in the air. "This is nice. I like not having to stop every two seconds."  
  
    Not having to stop at _all_ was nice too. He rather liked knowing they could ride it as long as they felt like. Akira got comfortable beside him, stretching his legs out to prop his feet on the other seat. It felt amazing out. The weather was blessedly cool so late at night, but Abel was warm and at ease beside him.  
  
    As they crested the very top of the ride, Akira nudged at Abel's hip. "Can you stop it up here for a little bit?"  
  
    "Yeah, of course." Abel did, raising an arm lazily. The ride halted immediately, and they swayed in the breeze, Akira leaning over the side to stare down at the city below them. It was a good time for it. He tilted forward, grabbing his bag from the floor of the compartment, and he pulled out a smaller one stuffed with bright, raspberry colored paper that burst from the top.  
  
    "This is for you," he said simply, depositing it in Abel's lap.  
  
    "Wait- What's this for?" Abel plucked the paper out and peered inside the bag with growing delight spreading across his face. "Damn, talk about a welcome back to the eating world. Akira! You didn't have to do that." Despite his words, he looked excited as hell to see so many bags of Onion Rings.  
  
    "I know I didn't." He made a mental note of that, too. Not the 23rd. Abel would probably have noted if he was a Leo cusp. Though maybe he did just like the irony. Akira rather liked it too, that his Whore of Babylon was a Virgin. "I do want you to know I tried my best to find you Mexican Coke, but it was short notice and I could only find it online. I'm sorry."  
  
    Abel blinked at him, then snickered, smiling like an imp. "You should have just said so. Here!" He threw his arms up with a flicker of his cape, and in both his hands, two ice cold glass bottles appeared. " _Et voila_. I hope you like it as much as I do." He passed one to Akira and popped his thumbnail against his forefinger. Both the metal caps snapped off at the same time.  
  
    Bottoms up, then. Akira clicked his bottle against Abel's and swallowed a generous mouthful. Damn, that _was_ really good. "I have to know. How did you develop a taste for Mexican Coke? I couldn't find any, and I looked all over Tokyo."  
  
    "Ah." Abel leaned into the seats again and turned over to face him. "My parents were jet setters. I lived in America for a little while when I was really young. I lied about being good at English because of eighties power ballads."  
  
    Akira lifted his eyebrows and tried not to laugh. "Really? Tell me about that. The living in America part, not the power ballads." This was Abel's first mention of his family at all, save that throwaway comment about his mom being dead. "I had no idea."  
  
    More modestly, Abel shrugged and took another swallow of his own drink. "It's not really that exciting. I barely remember it, to tell you the truth. I know we swung through the southern states, but I couldn't tell you much about them."  
  
    "So you mostly grew up here?"  
  
    Abel nodded and scooted closer to him, mimicking Akira's pose and resting his feet on the seat opposite them. "Yeah. My parents liked to travel, so I had been other places too, but I spent most of that time in the US. I do remember my grandparents used to get so heated about it. My grandma was convinced that my parents were going to die in a plane crash, flying as often as we did. But you know what killed them?"  
  
    Akira frowned back at him. There really was no decent way to respond to that without sounding entirely callous or awkward, so he waited for Abel to take another drink and finish. He waved a hand and scoffed. "A subway crash right here at home. I think I was, like, five. My grandparents took me in after that."  
  
    The topic itself was a little morbid, but Akira appreciated his first real glimpse into Abel's history. He nodded slowly and brushed his fingers against the back of Abel's hand. "I'm sorry."  
  
    "Nah, don't be. It's really not a big deal. I don't remember much about them. Maybe if I'd been older, but even at the time, I just...I don't know. It was like, that's a thing that happens, and I was just one of the ones it happened to." Abel rolled his shoulders and turned his head towards Akira. "It kind of worked for me, anyway. My grandparents were pretty hands-off."  
  
    Akira blinked. "What do you mean?"  
  
    "Oh, right." Abel laughed again and pulled his headphones down around his neck. "I wasn't the only wayward vagrant my grandparents took in. About a year after I moved in, my aunt and uncle died too, and my cousin moved in with us. Naoya. He was a lot older than me, so they just let him take the reins."  
  
    "Like, he raised you?" No wonder Abel was so thoroughly independent. He'd clearly never had any real guardians in his life.  
  
    "Mm." Abel rubbed a thumb across his bottom lip. "Sort of? I don't want to make it sound like they were shitty or anything. They made sure Naoya and I were taken care of, they just...weren't there all the time. They didn't like that my parents were big travelers, but honestly, they were too. They just kept it within Japan. They sent Naoya money, and he made sure I didn't starve to death or get kidnapped or something. Which, you can see, I never did, so all in all, I'd say that benign neglect served me pretty well."  
  
    "Oh." Man. And Akira thought he had it rough when his parents stopped talking to him after his arrest. Then again, Abel very obviously didn't need his pity. Talking about his family didn't seem to bother him at all, not like discussing his title or how he got his magic.  
  
    Abel nodded and took another long swig of his Coke. "Really, my grandparents aren't bad people. I don't blame them for not wanting to hang around," he admitted. "Naoya and I must have seemed like little cursed children to them. They had to bury both their sons. I'm sure they were wondering when they'd be next after taking us in. But they never treated us badly and they kept us around."  
  
    For about a minute, Abel lapsed into silence and sipped at his Coke until it was gone. Eventually, the silence was dispelled by the rip of a bag of Onion Rings. Abel thrust it against Akira's chest for him to take one. They spent awhile doing little more than eating through Abel's snacks, the car swaying at the very top of the Ferris wheel.  
  
    "What is-" Abel was rifling through the bag when he paused, and he pulled up a whole pickle that Akira had gone to the trouble of bagging with some pickle juice. "What is this? Did you make this?"  
  
    "...Yes," Akira finally said. "Morgana told me that you mentioned missing frozen pickles. I didn't know that was a thing, but apparently some American gas stations sell them like that, so I made that. For you. Sorry if it's weird."  
  
    "Weird!" Abel laughed and flung his arms around Akira's neck. "This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. You're totally right. When we were driving through the states, my parents bought me those when we'd stop to get gas. I haven't had one in years!"  
  
    "Americans eat the weirdest shit," Akira decided. Abel nodded for him and ruffled his hair adoringly.  
  
    "Yeah, yeah. I'll let you try my frozen pickle. They're the bomb, don't knock it." He slid it back in the bag and slotted himself against Akira's side once again, half-lying with him in the cart. "You're way too nice to me, Akira. I don't deserve it."  
  
    "I disagree. It sounds to me like you could stand to have more people being nice to you." He wedged his arm between Abel's back and the seat of the car, and he lay back beside him as Abel waved a hand to make it start up again. They plunged backwards, and Akira closed his eyes and enjoyed the wind on his face. "When are you going to tell me about becoming the King of Bel?"  
  
    As he'd feared, Abel fell quiet again. He chewed at his lip there, but he made no move to pull away from Akira. "I can tell you a little bit," Abel said, uncertainty heavy in his mouth. "But only because it seems like you're dealing with something waaay different than me, and I'm not sure I can fuck it up."  
  
    Akira pushed his head back against the seat of the car and threw him an odd look. "I don't think you could fuck it up, no. What do you mean?"  
  
    Abel lifted both his shoulders and let his arms dangle behind him. "I went through a Biblical apocalypse. Seven days, just like Genesis." He did not laugh at that, or even smile, which made it clear to Akira that he was not making some sort of obscure joke.  
  
    "...Oh." It made sense, though, if he was some kind of Biblical king of demons.  
  
    "My friends and I were lured into the Yamanote Line just before the SDF barricaded everyone inside it. I was told to figure out a way to eradicate the demons inside the Line in a week, or every one of us was dead. So, here I am. Being King of Bel gives me dominion over demons without question, so after I ascended the throne, I sent them all back to Hel. And I followed. Got lost for two years."  
  
    Quietly, Abel sighed and turned over, pressing his cheek to Akira's shoulder. "I regret just vanishing. It wasn't my intention. I didn't realize how vast it is, and I had no idea that my sense of time completely changed when I became King. I thought I was only gone for a few hours, but when I resurfaced, it was two and a half years, to be more specific. My friends thought I was dead."  
  
    "But you saw them again?" Akira nudged his head down to try and look at him as best he could. "I thought you might have lost your universe as soon as you became King."  
  
    "Nah. I did because I'm a fucking idiot. I tried to see if I could figure out how to go back in time and change what I did, but it was no use. I just stumbled into other universes and now I can't get back to mine. It's stupid, right?" Abel scoffed and lifted both his hands, spreading his pale fingers and eyeing them critically. "I could fucking demolish this whole planet if I wanted to. I could build new planets, or make a sun. I can do almost anything, but I can't find my way home. How embarrassing is that?"  
  
    A sharp shiver tore down the length of Akira's spine. "You could do all that?"  
  
    Finally, Abel laughed again, and he pushed his face into Akira's chest. "I wouldn't! I promise. But I could, yeah. In the last universe I was in, I met someone who told me my magic is utterly wasted on me."  
  
    Akira's face pinched into a scowl. "He sounds like a dick."  
  
    "Nah, he was right." Then he paused, and Abel chortled to himself. "I mean, he is totally a dick, but he's also a dick who was right at the time. It is wasted on me. I have no grand vision, and it drove him up the fucking wall. That universe had an apocalypse that was really similar to mine, and I interfered and fucked it up."  
  
    That would be why Abel was trying so hard not to interfere in his. Akira nodded to him and draped his arm around his middle. "I understand."  
  
    Again, Abel lapsed back into silence for a bit, then he pushed himself up and regarded Akira with a sultry little wink. "It's not all bad, you know? I have tentacles now."  
  
    "What?!"  
  
    "I'll show you some other time." Abel grinned, a bright white Cheshire smile in the dark, and he tilted his head back and laughed. For another hour, they rode the Ferris wheel, Akira telling him about his own parents and how much he could sympathize with Abel's envy over Marjolaine's big, loving family.  
  
    He didn't get home to bed until almost three in the morning. Spending the next day with Ann, Ryuji, and Futaba was exhausting, but he had yet more plans for the evening. He made it through with several cups of coffee and yet more texts to Abel. He was kind enough to draw him more dick pictures, as if that would somehow help him feel more awake.  
  
    The instant Futaba was safely delivered home, Akira had his third gift to prepare. He wrapped the small box in the same black and red paper he'd used for the first one, and he texted Abel to invite him to his room. Which he accepted within literal seconds, appearing sprawled out on Akira's bed, his cape draped over his body and his face cupped dramatically in his hand. "Draw me like one of your French girls, Akira."  
  
    Akira stared at him with both hands in his pockets. "Aren't you the artist?"  
  
    "Oh, shit, yeah." Abel sat up and yanked him forward by the lapels of his blazer. "Akira, get on the bed so I can draw you like one of my French girls."  
  
    He swatted Abel's hands off him so he could actually sit down beside him, and he pressed the small, freshly wrapped box into his hand. "For you."  
  
    Promptly, Abel forgot about any girls, French or otherwise, and he ripped off the paper and opened the box to see a bright red spider lily shaped cell phone charm. "Okay, seriously. What is all this for? Am I getting my own Golden Week? Did you win the lottery? I don't understand."  
  
    So the 24th also wasn't it. Akira took it in stride and swung his legs towards him, facing Abel openly. "You told me that you're a Virgo, right?"  
  
    Abel blinked several times and nodded, confused.  
  
    "And you told me specifically that your birthday is in August. Virgo starts from August 22nd or 23rd, depending on which source you use. So I thought that if I got started on the 22nd and went all the way through until the end of the month, then I couldn't possibly miss your birthday."  
  
    The box nearly fell from Abel's loose fingers. He was staring at him, his eyebrows deeply furrowed. "Akira..." He looked so upset that Akira felt awful. Maybe he really did hate his birthday. Maybe his parents died on his birthday and now he's traumatized forever and Akira is cruelly dredging all those memories up.  
  
    "Abel, I-"  
  
    "August 30th." Abel clutched harder at the little box before he eased again, and he pried the plastic spider lily out and held it in his palm. "My birthday is August 30th. You're such a punkass." He laughed wetly and dropped his face to Akira's shoulder. "Now that you know it, I still expect a real present on my birthday." He ruined the seriousness with a quiver of his mouth, and he huffed loudly. "Okay, I don't really expect anything. You didn't have to do any of that for me."  
  
    Akira leaned into him, his cheek coming to rest in Abel's blue hair. "I wanted to. I hope you like it. They remind me of your eyes. I know they're called Hell flowers and other unflattering names, but they're my favorite. They're poisonous and beautiful and I like dangerous things."  
  
    "God." A breathless laugh erupted from Abel as he held his face. "You're too much for me. I love it. Thank you." He pulled his phone out and put the charm on it. It dangled fetchingly from the black metal, so bright and beautiful against it. For ages, Abel did little more than stare at it.  
  
    After a beat, he put his phone down and dug inside of his cape, producing a blue phone that had a strange looking charm already on it. He'd never seen this phone before. Abel pulled the charm off and cupped it in his palm. "You know what this it?" Akira shook his head. "Devil's fuge." A pause, then Abel rolled his eyes and smiled. "Mistletoe."  
  
    He removed it from his phone and took Akira's hand, pressing it into his palm. "It's going to sound ridiculous, but this saved my ass during the lockdown. Do you know what it means? Besides tricking people into kissing you at Christmas." Akira was silent, so Abel took his cue to continue. "It means 'I surmount all difficulties'. I want you to keep it."  
  
    Akira closed his fingers around it, so tight his knuckles turned white. Abel smiled for him and ruffled his curly hair. "I think you need it more than I do. Keep that with you. If you ever need me, I promise I'll come running."  
  
    He absolutely believed him. Akira nodded again and pulled his own phone out to attach the charm to it.  
  
    Though Abel had assured him he didn't expect a gift on his birthday, Akira refused to ignore it. He invited him to Leblanc for coffee and a birthday card with some artwork courtesy of Akira himself.  
  
    It wasn't half as good as what Abel could do, but he'd done his best. He'd made his very own ARN card, with Abel seated upon the throne of Babalon, his hands folded in his lap and his dorky cat headphones and cape all accounted for.  
  
    Abel loved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **chapter 9 bonus** :
> 
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>   
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> 
> I apologize for the long delay preceding this chapter. I've been sick for the past couple of weeks. Thank you so much for your patience! We're almost to the end! I wanted this work to reflect the usual 10-step confidants, so this next chapter will be the final one, with a bonus 11th chapter that's nonstop smut. Thank you for sticking with me! ♥
> 
> Also, additional note: [Offensive Crayons](https://www.offensivecrayons.com/) are a hundred percent real


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